The Witches' Night
by Disciple of Ember
Summary: A mere sentence, spoken in haste, can change the course of history. In an attempt to save her friends from their fate, Madoka Kaname makes a pact with the alien being known as Kyubey. Her wish comes with a terrible turn as she is thrown into a world far colder than her own. Now she must fight against the darkness, struggling to find salvation in a universe that knows only war.
1. A new beginning

**My first story of 2015, and one that's been in the works for a while now. I want to say a quick thank you to Erednay for helping me organize it. Comments and criticisms are welcome, and updates are planned to come around every other week.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Puella Magi Madoka Magica**

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><p>This couldn't be happening.<p>

Those words burned in Madoka Kaname's mind as she raced up the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

This couldn't be happening.

Her desperate panting was drowned out by the furious storm outside. Wind raged against the building she was ascending, clawing at the brick and mortar in an attempt to tear it apart and scatter it to the ends of the crumbling city.

This couldn't be happening.

Somewhere out there, in the hellish windstorm, her friend was fighting for her life. Somewhere out there, Homura was standing alone against the single most powerful Witch of all time.

And she was losing.

Madoka had only caught brief glimpses of the fight as she raced through the abandoned streets. She'd seen Homura lash out at the monstrous creature with all manner of weaponry, each proving to be useless. The Witch never slowed nor hesitated. It withstood every hit as though they were nothing and unleashed wave after wave of Familiars to ravage the structures below.

Above her, Madoka heard the sound of glass cracking as the wicked winds shattered a window higher up the stairwell into a million tiny shards. She hugged the wall as tightly as she could, watching the fragments as they fell like lead snow, striking the sides of the steps and careening into the abyss. She was nearly blown after them as the wind tore through the new opening and screamed around her body.

Hunching over to protect herself from the unrelenting elements, Madoka began to climb again. She didn't dare pause for even a moment. The last she'd seen of Homura was her form disappearing as she was smashed into the roof by a chunk of another building that had been torn free. She might already be too late.

Madoka shut her eyes, gritting her teeth against the helpless feeling that rose in her chest.

No! She wouldn't be too late! She'd already lost too many friends to let that happen! No matter what, she wouldn't let anyone else die to this… this…

She stumbled, nearly collapsing as the weight of everything that had happened. She couldn't give up. She couldn't let it all be for nothing.

Rising back up, Madoka pushed herself forwards, taking the stairs two at a time even as the gale threatened to hurl her over the railing. One foot in front of the other. Each one bringing her just a little bit closer to her goal.

After a harrowing age spent in the winding wind tunnel, she found herself standing on the new roof of the building. The old one had long since vanished into the stormy skies, leaving behind piles of rubble and destroyed masonry. Out of the corner of her eye, Madoka caught a glimpse of the one responsible for all this devastation.

Walpurgisnacht.

Colossal. Indomitable. Untouchable.

The enormous Witch's never-ending laughter echoed across the landscape, dancing on the razor wind as she fed on the despair of those cowering in their shelters. Those innocent people who didn't realize the true nature of the hurricane raging beyond the walls they took refuge in. It was no mere act of nature, and would not subside until everything they knew was reduced to dust and ashes.

Madoka tore her gaze from the terrible sight. She couldn't allow herself to be distracted, not even by such a creature. There was someone who needed her.

"Homura!" Her cry was immediately snatched away by the torrents of air biting at her form. She called again and again, clawing her way over a pile of rubble to get a better vantage point. After a short search, her actions were rewarded with a glimpse of her goal.

"Homura!" The raven-haired Magical Girl lay pinned beneath broken slabs of concrete. She was battered and broken, a trail of blood flowing down her forehead and across her face. She was hurt, but more importantly, she was alive.

"Homura!" She called a third time as she ran towards her fallen friend. This one managed to get a reaction.

"Madoka…?" She groaned, turning in disbelief to see the pink haired girl running up to her through the haze of the storm. Surprise quickly turned to horror as she realized the danger. "Madoka! What are you doing here!?"

The girl ground to a halt mere feet away from her, the single question burning in her mind like a lance of sunlight. What _was_ she doing here? She couldn't hope to fight Walpurgisnacht. She was no help to Homura like this. Worse, she was a hindrance. Even so, she knew that staying behind in the shelter while her friend fought alone wasn't an option.

"I wanted to come for you." She said, her reasoning sounding hollow to her own ears. "I wanted to help… To do _something._"

A flash of pain shot through Homura's features as she forced herself up on her elbows. It wasn't enough to get her into a sitting position, but it was close.

"Madoka…" She said, her voice shaking. "Get out of here. Now! You can't be here! If you die… again… then all of this was for nothing! How many times are you going to do this? Don't you understand!? _You can't help me here!_"

Her words cut deep, but it was her expression that turned Madoka's blood to ice. Her face, normally so devoid of emotion, wore such blatant fear and anger that she could feel it like a physical force radiating off of Homura's body. If this kept up…

"But she _can_ help."

The third voice, sounding so utterly harmless, drew their attentions immediately. Madoka found that she wasn't the least bit surprised when she saw Kyubey perched on a pile of debris, his pristine white fur standing out against the backdrop of the roiling storm clouds.

"Can't you?" He asked with a knowing tilt of his head.

"Get away from her!" Homura warned, screaming to be heard over the wind. She struggled to rise, but was unable to get herself more than a few inches off the ground. "Don't you dare touch her! Madoka! It isn't too late! Get back now!"

Kyubey said nothing, his bushy tail idly swinging back and forth as though the near panic in her voice was nothing worth concerning himself over.

Get back. Run. Hide. Stay where it was safe while the others put their lives on the line. Madoka felt the hollow weight of everything that had happened settle in her stomach. She'd stayed behind while everyone else did the fighting for her. She'd stayed safe while they'd died.

She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't let Homura die as well. Even if she knew signing a contract with Kyubey meant dooming herself, she had to take the chance.

"I'm sorry." She said, tears stinging her eyes. She didn't know who she was apologizing to, her fallen friends, Homura, her family, or herself. "Kyubey…"

"Don't!" Homura commanded, reaching forwards in a vain attempt to hold her back. Even had they not been separated by such a distance, she lacked the strength to even stand, much less restrain another person. "Don't do it Madoka! Don't throw it all away! Don't make me watch you die again!"

Her friend's anguish cut into her heart like a thousand barbed thorns, but the pain didn't dissuade her. She knew that there was only one way this could end.

If she didn't know better she might have thought Kyubey was radiating amused satisfaction as she drew closer. That was impossible of course. He didn't feel emotions at all.

"What is your wish Madoka Kaname?"

She breathed in, the stinging dust filled air scratching her throat as she did so. She had one chance. One possible out. If this failed, there would be no turning back.

"I can wish for anything right?" She asked, already knowing the answer. Behind her, Homura was once again shouting but her voice was lost to the winds. Madoka knew she had to hurry. If her friend's hand started edging towards the disc at her wrist, the whole timeline would be erased just as it had been so many before it had.

"Of course." Kyubey answered immediately, no trace of doubt coloring his voice. She wondered briefly if he even knew what doubt felt like. "Someone with your potential could wish for anything in the world. There's no limit to what you could do."

The images of her friends flashed through her mind. Mami, having gone through the torture of isolation only to have her life cut short the moment hope began to shine. Sayaka, falling into despair when she truly began to understand the weight of her loss. Kyoko, sacrificing herself in a desperate gamble to save her friend.

She could wish them back to life, but what would that do? Walpurgisnacht was still here. Even if they defeated the Witch, Madoka knew what would come next. In every timeline where they won, she herself became consumed by the same power which gave birth to the creature, turning into a foe even worse than she was.

"I wish…" One chance. That was all she had. Just one chance to get it right.

A sudden movement drew her attention back to Homura. The girl's hand flew to the device on her arm. She was going to reset it all again. Panic surged through Madoka's system as she frantically turned to Kyubey. With no time to think, she screamed the first thing that came to mind.

"I wish I could save them!"

Kyubey leaned forwards, his body gleaming with energy as he initiated the transformation. Homura gripped the time manipulation device, turning it with every ounce of conviction she had left. Madoka closed her eyes, bracing herself for the sensation of being changed or erased. Clenching her teeth, she turned her head to the side as a blinding flash of light burned her eyelids. She waited.

And waited.

She didn't feel anything changing. Was she too late? Did Homura go through with it? Tentatively opening one eye just a crack, she ventured a peak at her surroundings.

Nothing had changed. Kyubey still remained perched on the pile of rubble, his head angled forwards as he leaned towards her. Homura lay where she'd fallen, her hand gripping the edge of the tool on her arm in preparation to activate it. Everything was exactly the same except for one minor detail.

Nothing moved.

The wind had stopped, the lack of its howling shrieks leaving behind a heavy silence in their absence. Chunks of masonry and debris hung motionless in the sky as though suspended by some alien force. Homura was still as a statue, her eyes fixed in the same pained expression without even a rise and fall of her breath to tell the world that she was still alive.

Even Walpurgisnacht floated motionless before the backdrop of devastation. The Witch's turning gears and twisted laughter both froze in the same moment of nothingness that took hold of the world.

Madoka opened her mouth but there was no sound she could call upon. A million questions whirled around her head, each desperately clambering for clarification which she couldn't provide.

Just as she was starting to work up the nerve to step forwards, she noticed something that stole her breath away.

It was subtle at first, slowly wearing down things at the edges of her vision, but the more she focused the more she realized that the color of the surrounding world was dissolving. Tiny fragments of gray, brown, black, white, and every other shade imaginable began to peel away and evaporate like the sooty remains of a campfire in a sudden breeze. In their place, there was nothingness.

"Homura!" She cried, dashing to her friend. The girl's body was already starting to disappear as the entropic force took its toll. "Wake up! Please! You have to wake up!"

Madoka reached forwards to attempt shaking her free from the holds whatever dark will held her in place, but her hands met with nothing but open air as Homura vanished entirely.

An anguished scream tore itself free from her throat as she dropped to her knees where her friend had been laying just a moment ago. Tears were streaming down her face but she no longer cared. Whipping around, she turned to face Kyubey once again.

"Stop it!" She shouted, her voice filled with panicked desperation. "This isn't what I wished for! You can't do this!"

The Incubator said nothing, sitting motionless until his outline began to crumble and dissolve as well. Madoka watched in horrified fascination as his tiny body was reduced to wisps of fading emptiness. Whatever forces were at work hadn't spared him either.

"This isn't…"

A bitter sob got caught halfway up her throat, causing her to choke on the words she'd been unconsciously starting to speak. Everything was fading faster now, entire buildings being wiped out of existence in a matter of seconds while she watched helplessly.

The sky blurred and washed away into nothing, leaving Madoka's head spinning as she struggled to hold onto some semblance of reality. She took a step back only to feel her foot land in open air. Unable to bring herself to even shout, she felt herself fall backwards into the void, watching as the last glimpse of the world faded away.

Little by little, she became aware of her own form starting to fade. Her digits began eroding, trailing thin pinkish comet tails as she fell.

"I'm going to die…"

Madoka wasn't sure if the words were spoken out loud or not, but that mattered little. There was nobody else to hear her. She was alone in the end, just as the others had been.

Before long, her arms and legs had vanished and the rest of her body began to break apart as well. There was no pain. There was no anything. Even as the final portions of her body were scattered into the empty vastness, she couldn't pick up even one discernable physical sensation. Though her eyes were gone, it wasn't as though the scenery had changed. There was still nothingness in every direction.

_Am I dead?_

The question formed almost apologetically in her consciousness, as though she feared reprisal for having the nerve to even ask. Of course, there was no one to answer.

Another slow change made itself known as her fall started to shift directions. Instead of dropping straight down, she now felt as though she were moving at some sort of angle. She was going faster, her momentum being picked up by whatever senses had somehow remained despite her lack of a form. Before long she was rocketing through the empty air faster than she would have thought possible.

Something was coming. Something was building up in the distance. Without warning, she felt herself slam into some sort of barrier, shattering it as she was propelled forwards.

Reality returned in a rush, blazing into existence in time for her to hit the floor and skid several feet. Her shoulder slammed into a hard and unforgiving surface, sending a wave of pain shooting through her body.

Her body…

Gasping sharply, she opened her eyes to find that her body was still here. She rapidly drew in air as though she'd just broken the surface of an ocean that was miles deep, staring in disbelief at her limbs and body parts which had all been restored.

Rolling onto her side, she groaned as her legs strained to right her. After several moments of struggling she managed to rise to her feet and became aware of her surroundings for the first time.

It wasn't the rooftop in the city, that was for certain. This place, wherever it was, had almost no light, only a dim green strip of some strange material offering even the slightest illumination. There was no sound either. She was alone in the dark. The air was cold and stale, tasting as though it had been stagnating in this place for years without any to breathe it in.

Despite how badly she wanted to, Madoka refused to panic. She clutched her hands to her chest, carefully keeping track of each breath she took. She had to stay focused. Something massive had just happened, and she had to figure out what.

As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she became aware of human-like figures inhabiting small alcoves that had been carved into the wall. They were exceedingly tall, and had strangely exaggerated proportions. The arms and legs were all far too long while the upper body looked to be hunched over.

She knew it was probably not the smartest thing to do, but curiosity got the better of her. Madoka stepped closer to the figures in an attempt to get a better look. When she did, it took every bit of willpower she had to keep from jumping back and screaming in fright.

It was a skeleton. Or rather, a large representation of one. The statue, it had to be a statue, was painfully thin and its face was the spitting image of an empty skull. A single large piece made up the ribcage, with small indentations marking where the individual bones would be. Flat emotionless features stared back at her, silently observing the diminutive visitor.

Madoka took another deep breath, rebuilding her nerve as she reached forwards. A morbid sense of wonder had taken hold and she felt the inescapable need to touch it. Her fingers trembled as they drew close, barely brushing the surface of the statue before she snatched them back with a surprised yelp.

It was metal, and painfully cold. Far colder than she'd have thought it should be. If the musty coating of dust and soot was anything to go by, it was probably very old as well.

She was about to try reaching forwards once again when a familiar tugging sensation gripped her body. For the second time, she was ripped away from the material world, though this instance was far more sudden. She felt as though her body was blasted apart as she rocketed into the emptiness and sailed forwards at breakneck speeds. There was barely enough time to even take in the feeling of being tossed around before she was slammed forcibly through another barrier.

Unlike previously, she didn't get the luxury of sliding to a slow stop. All her forwards momentum was immediately halted as she was thrown against a massive shelf of some sort. She hardly had time to brace herself before the oversized object toppled over, spilling all manner of metal parts in a raucous din that could have drowned out a jet engine.

All the air was violently blasted from her lungs, leaving her able to only make a pitiful whimper as she slowly regained her bearings. Forcing her eyes open, Madoka was greeted by the sight of something resembling an exceedingly cluttered mechanical workshop. Countless pieces of indistinguishable gadgets and parts covered every available surface making it impossible to even tell what had been displaced by her sudden entrance.

What's more, she wasn't alone.

Her eyes went wide with a mixture of shock and fear as she became aware of the other presence in the room. It was massive, standing easily eight feet tall with a frame that looked like it could have flattened a small car just by sitting on it. The creature was huge, green, and looked positively dumbfounded at the girl who'd just appeared in its workspace.

Two beady eyes blinked in unison while a mouth filled with oversized teeth hung slack with its uncomprehending expression. One of its bulky arms was busy holding down a smaller green creature which looked to be struggling against it. The other hand was frozen in midair, bringing forwards a welding tool which it looked to be using to seal its unfortunate victim inside of something resembling a rocket.

Before the impasse could be broken, Madoka felt the same reality-bending sensation she had previously and managed to brace herself for the inevitable. Once more, the whole of reality was catapulted out of existence along with her physical form.

She was moving in a slightly different direction this time, and seemed to be slowing down. Not enough to come to a pleasant stop, but enough that when she hit the next barrier it didn't feel like her entire body was being forced through a metal grate.

As gravity once again came into effect, she managed to orient herself and land on her hands and knees rather than collapsing in a heap on the floor. A small feeling of satisfaction ran through her heart at her successful entrance despite the nature of the situation.

The moment didn't last long however, as a chorus of startled voices drew her out of her thoughts. She hadn't landed on the floor after all. Rather, she'd managed to come down right in the middle of a large circular table. All around her were strangely tall people, dressed in strikingly ornate robes and garments which covered every inch of their bodies. Their heads and faces were hidden behind highly stylized masks and helmets. Each one was adorned with symbols whose meanings she couldn't even guess at, and gemstones which looked nothing short of priceless. The walls of the structure they were inside of was pale white in color, looking to be some sort of mixture between plastic and metal. It was unlike any substance she'd seen before.

The room was a blur of motion as many of the people began speaking at once, their gestures and actions all centered on her as they collectively drew away from the table. Silence fell around the congregation as they watched her warily.

"S-Sorry…" Madoka ventured, not knowing what else to say. From the looks of things she'd dropped in the middle of some kind of ceremony or perhaps a ritual gathering. She had no idea how to convey the circumstances that had thrown her here in a way they would understand.

"I didn't mean to interrupt. It was an accident. Y-You see, I-"

Her stammered apology was cut short as one of the figures took a decisive step forwards. He, she assumed it was a he given the lack of any visible defining features, jabbed an accusing hand forwards and began speaking in a rapid dialect that she couldn't hope to follow. Despite not knowing what was being said, she could very clearly pick up on the unbridled hostility in his voice.

"I'm sorry!" She quickly offered again, backing up to the far edge of the table under the verbal assault. Her movements caused the people at her back to part ways and move to either side, not willing to get close to her.

"_E'seeais ruevis, mon-keigh!"_ The speaker demanded, nimbly stepping up onto the top of the table she was crouched on. A new flurry of words she couldn't make out followed the first, causing her to tremble under the weight of his anger.

Before she could enter another useless bout of failed communications, the world once again decided it was time for her to leave. It came as a relief when she felt the bonds of reality split apart.

The figure speaking seemed to notice the change as well and darted forwards with his hand outstretched. Whether his intentions were to harm her or simply to hold her in place, she couldn't tell. Regardless, he was a fraction of a moment to slow as everything fell apart into nothingness just before he managed to grab ahold of her arm.

She was drifting once again with neither form nor focus. The sense of movement had slowed considerably since the last time, giving her the impression that her unpleasant ride was nearing its end. Countless worries made themselves known to her at this realization.

Was she doomed to drift in this empty vastness forever? Even if it deposited her somewhere before stopping, how could she hope to get home? Most important of all, what had happened to her friends, the very ones this had all started for?

These questions plagued her the entire time she was floating through the vast non-existence. When she finally began to slow to a halt, she noticed immediately that something had changed.

This place was different from before. She still had no form to speak of, but the surrounding atmosphere had changed considerably. It felt… wrong. Dark. Sinister. Fleeting images of distant things flickered past her incorporeal senses, causing her to shudder as they brushed against her awareness.

Little by little, they started to focus on her. It began as one small creature turned, catching a glimpse of her with whatever strange perception it had available. More quickly joined, drawing closer and closer like a pack of circling wolves.

Madoka did everything she could to hide herself from their sight, but in this world she had no control. She could only watch with growing concern as more and more of the spectral apparitions were drawn to her presence.

All at once, they fled with startling speed. She was left alone. For several moments, she simply waited, fearing that any movement would draw them swarming back. That fear was replaced by an even greater one as she realized what had driven them away.

Like some cataclysmic celestial body eclipsing the light of the sun, a massive entity made itself known to her. The sheer overwhelming power being given off by it left her in terrified awe. Its mere presence was enough to overshadow Walpurgisnacht a thousand times over.

And its attention was firmly fixed on her.

An array of countless invisible eyes locked her into place, smothering her under the sheer weight of the being's gaze. She could feel its ancient power as well as its scrutinizing curiosity. To it, she was an oddity. Something it wasn't used to seeing.

Just when she feared she would drown under the watching presence, another joined it. There was no subtle intrigue to this one. It was rage. It was hatred. It was bloodlust. Unbound fury washed over every fiber of her being, shaking her with the violent intensity of an earthquake as it approached. The first entity wasn't happy at the intrusion, but it had little chance to protest before two more appeared as well.

One slithered in, bringing with it sensations of things Madoka couldn't fully grasp. Its presence sent shivers up and down her incorporeal spine, equally freezing and burning at the same time. There was too much sensory information for her to take in. The creature, whatever it was, seemed to pick up on her fear and displeasure. Its aura shook with what she could only assume was predatory mirth.

The other lumbered into the exchange, giving off a feeling so foul that she could hardly endure its mere approach. Had she possessed her body, she was sure she'd have become violently ill. In stark contrast to the others, the most repulsive of them lacked the same cruel edge to its being. It was perhaps the only of the four that had come out of nothing more than idle curiosity.

They were speaking. She could hear their voices roiling and raging, seeping into every crevice of her mind. What the words meant, she couldn't tell, but their owners were clear enough.

One was shrewd, moving through the conversation with subtle additions and inscrutable motives.

Another was boisterous, loud, and commanding. It boomed through the surrounding vastness, causing the realm to shake and shudder.

Still another was smooth and seductive. Crawling amidst them like a serpent whispering in the ears of its fellows.

The final was content to simply sit back and enjoy the show. Its echoing laughter made it clear that it found the discussion to be highly entertaining.

Their voices deafened her, smashing against her essence as the verbal debate continued onwards. Madoka could feel herself starting to break under the onslaught. Try as she might to hold on, the overwhelming substance that the creatures had to them was crushing her simply by their proximity.

Just when she felt as though she could take no more, she felt herself start to be pulled away from the bickering forces. An unfamiliar power wrapped itself around her, drawing her back at blistering speed. In the span of only a few moments, the crippling weight of the other beings was mercifully far away.

She let out a soundless sigh of relief, no longer caring where she was being dragged. So long as it was away from those four, she would be happy with it.

Her progress slowed much more smoothly than it had previously, causing her to come to a light stop. She was still not back to the physical world, but she wasn't exactly in the same sinister area she'd been in previously. It felt tamer here. As though the darkness was being held at bay.

She wasn't given much time to reflect.

A new presence made itself known to her, dawning over her consciousness with the bright light of a hundred blazing suns. It was just as powerful, if not even more so, than any of the previous four. Unlike them however, it kept its own might restrained, ensuring that she wasn't made to suffer in its presence.

The being was different. It lacked the same vile feeling that had exuded off of the others, and it seemed to just be more… _human_. It bore no single massive affinity for any one emotion, but rather held the expected mixture of all of them.

But above all that, it felt tired.

Exhausted beyond the scope of what any one mortal could hope to comprehend. Yet, even through the fatigue and strain, there was an insurmountable strength behind it. That strength warmed her, chasing away the pain and anguish she'd suffered at the hands of her previous captors.

**You have no idea what you've done, do you?**

The voice startled Madoka back into alertness. Not only did it speak in a language she could understand, but it sounded from all around her. She tried to reply only to remember that she had no body and thus could not speak. The voice sensed this when she didn't answer.

She felt it… _him_, the voice sounded distinctly male, focus. After a brief pause, reality bent in on itself and the scattered pieces of her physical form rapidly rearranged into their proper places. She was left floating in the vastness, now fully intact.

"Who are you…?" She gasped, having long since given up on trying to understand what was going on. "How did you do that?"

He didn't answer. Instead she felt his gaze sweep down upon her like that of a stern parent.

**You have brought a great tragedy with you. One that will take many lives. **

Despite the nature of what he was saying, there was no condemnation of anger in his voice. It sounded firm but resigned, as though the talk of death was nothing more than he'd expected. She tried to open her mouth to ask what tragedy he spoke of, but he went on before she had the chance.

**You came here with a purpose, didn't you?**

Madoka's head jerked upwards sharply. In the chaos of the past… how long had it even been? She'd almost forgotten the reason behind the madness.

"Yes!" She answered, startling herself slightly at how loud her words sounded in the bleak expanse. "I wanted the chance to save my friends. Do you know about that? Can you help me?"

He had no body whose movements she could have observed, but she could have sworn that he shook his head sadly at her questions.

**I cannot. The only one who can help you is yourself. You've set in motion events that can no longer be avoided. By their end, many will perish, and many will suffer. Whether you will be counted among their number or not is something only you can decide. **

"Wait!" She cried, feeling the same energy as before start to wrap around her. "What does that mean!? Please! I just want my friends back!"

**Go now, Madoka Kaname. Find the one who claims a place among the office of Daemon Hunters. Show her your hand, and begin the journey to fulfill your wish. Your fate, and that of your friends, will be decided in the coming days. **

The sheer finality in his tone sent a surge of panic into her heart, causing her to struggle against the tendrils that encompassed her. She was about to protest once again when a blinding pain tore through her hand, strangling any attempt at voicing her concerns.

To her horror, she looked down to find that a pure white flame had taken light in her palm. She screamed, throwing all self-control to the winds as she fought and flailed in the being's grip. No matter how hard she tried, the fire refused to be extinguished. It blazed in her hand as though trying to scorch her right down to the bone.

**Find them and finish what has been started. There is a terrible price that must be paid in the end, but only you can hope to defeat the coming storm. **

Tears streaming down her face, she could hardly even bring herself to hear his words, much less respond. She began to move once again as the tethers bound to her started dragging their unwilling passenger towards destinations unknown.

**Goodbye Madoka Kaname. And good luck.**

With his final parting words spoken, she was hurled back into the non-space even faster than she'd been going before. All the while her hand was an inferno as she uselessly tried to alleviate the pain. Though the journey couldn't have been any longer than her previous ones, it felt like it lasted for an eternity.

The walls of reality broke over her like a rolling wave, throwing her into the dirt with as much care as a discarded tool. She hit the ground with a hard bump, rolling to a stop as the rough grass clung to her clothing. For a time, she simply lay there panting and whimpering in the aftereffects of her trials.

The flame in her hand was gone, leaving nothing behind except the memory of its agony. It was a slight breeze that prompted her to open her eyes at last. High above, a light blue sky hung over her head.

Madoka groaned, using the last dregs of her energy to roll onto her side. The world was spinning, or maybe that was just in her head. She wished it would stop. It was making her painfully dizzy.

Putting her hands beneath her body, she pushed with all her strength in an attempt to rise up. It proved to be a mistake as the movement sent a wave of vertigo through her head, threatening to make her sick. With a defeated cough, she slumped back into the grass.

That was when she got her first good look at her hand. The fire had left a mark after all, emblazoning a strange symbol into her flesh.

The last thing she was aware of before darkness fell over her mind was the image of a decorative letter "I" bisected by three perpendicular dashes and topped with a skull in the center.


	2. Echoes in the dark

**Something I forgot to mention in the first chapter, this story will contain a fair bit of violence and dark themes. Currently I have it as rated T but if anyone feels that it becomes too intense or too graphic for that, please let me know and I'll raise the rating to M. It can be difficult for me to judge where the line is exactly for the rating system, so I just want to throw that out there.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Puella Magi Madoka Magica**

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><p>Whispers. Voices. Things she could barely hear scratching at the edges of her perception. Madoka was drifting, weightless in a sea of emptiness. It wasn't like it had been before. This place was different. Familiar. She'd been here many times, though she couldn't remember why or how.<p>

Her eyes were closed, but she could hardly bring herself to care. She was tired. So terribly tired. Exhausted beyond anything she'd experienced in a very long time.

There it was again. The whispering. Things she could but couldn't hear. Words that twisted in on themselves until they were nothing but a jumbled mess. She did her best to block them out, but they kept slipping back into the forefront of her mind like smoke drifting across her face.

Very soon, images began to follow. Each one flashed into existence and vanished just as quickly, leaving her with the impressions of their afterimages stamped into her awareness.

Sayaka… Kyoko… Mami… Homura…

Her friends. They were there, but they looked… different. Changed somehow. Their forms drifted away too quickly for her to see what was wrong. More pictures threw themselves at her, rapidly appearing and disappearing

Soldiers, running towards some unseen goal. Their eyes were a strange mixture of anger, fear, and resignation.

A tank, gargantuan in size. The main barrel on it was at least a dozen times larger than she was.

An arch, pure white and stretching high as a skyscraper. It glowed with a strange energy, the air crackling and sparkling around it like a miniature lightning storm.

And finally, a darkened sky, stretching as far as the eye could see. Sinister shapes and writhing masses filled the horizon. She couldn't say why, but the sight of them filled her heart with dread.

As quickly as they'd come, the images drifted away leaving behind only the vague memories of their existence for her to wonder at. She was left to drift undisturbed once again, but her moment of peace didn't last for very long.

The waking world pulled at the edges of Madoka's mind, slowly coaxing the unwilling girl back to consciousness. She fought against it with every sleep deprived ounce of willpower she could manage, but the call could not be ignored.

The weightless feeling was soon replaced by the soft support of a bed and the welcome weight of a blanket.

She'd been sleeping. A massive weight drifted away from her heart as she realized this. The blurry images of her earlier trials lost their biting edge. She'd been asleep the whole time. It was a dream, just the macabre assortment that had been haunting her ever since first meeting Homura and discovering that there was a world beyond her own.

Feeling a massive wave of relief wash over her, she turned over on the mattress and went to pull her stuffed rabbit closer. Her hand blindly fumbled along the edge of her bed in search of the toy only to meet with open air. That was strange. She always slept with a stuffed animal nearby. Why hadn't she done that last night?

Come to think of it, the mattress felt a lot stiffer than the one she slept on at home. In addition to that, the sheets and blankets were much scratchier, as though they'd been worn down through constant use with not enough washes in between.

Something wasn't right.

Forcing her eyes to open, she was instantly assaulted by a harsh and unfamiliar light. With a small groan, she put her hands up to her face in order to block out the rays long enough for her eyes to adjust.

After she had gotten used to them enough to see, she lowered the hands and took in the sight before her.

This was not her room. This wasn't anywhere she'd ever been before.

At first glance it looked to be some kind of hospital room. Pale white walls, dull brown floor, and rows upon rows of beds with only the bare minimum in terms of sheets, pillows, and other accessories. What struck her as strange however, was the décor of the place.

Beside each bed was an unlit candle on a small side table. They were too small to be practical for actual lighting, so she could only assume they served some other purpose. Windows were sparse and situated high near the ceiling. The miniscule amount of light they let in was offset by artificial ones which had been set up at regular intervals.

At the far left of the room, draped next to the door was a large banner depicting a haloed man with a golden sword and a strange looking set of armor. The words below the image were illegible, looking unlike any language she'd ever seen before.

Just as she started to turn away from the picture, a sudden sharp pain stabbed into her temple. Madoka let out a sharp cry, her hand darting up to clench the burning area. It was as though someone had driven a molten spike directly into her forehead, reaching into the center of her skull.

The pain passed quickly, fading before she had a chance to grow genuinely concerned. For a moment, she simply sat in heavy silence, fearing to move lest she bring on another bout of anguish. When it became clear that the pain was not returning, she dropped her arms with a sigh, a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold running across her body.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the painted fabric once again. With a start, she turned to face it and realized that the formerly unintelligible scripture lining the base had changed. She could now read it without any difficulty.

"He watches over us…" She read out loud, her mind struggling to process what had just happened. Distantly she wondered who this man could be. He didn't look like any depiction of a god or deity she was familiar with.

Her questions were put aside as the sound of voices drifted to her from somewhere beyond the closed door.

"_-telling you, I don't think it's safe to keep something like her here!"_

The first was male. It sounded young and nervous, not all that unlike she felt right now. She could practically hear him jittering in place through his tone.

"_Something like her? Would you care to explain to me why a soldier of the Imperium is suddenly terrified of some pink haired little girl?"_

The second was also male, though it belonged to someone far older. He sounded annoyed, but had enough control to keep his voice relatively even.

"_She's a witch! Adrian saw her fall from the sky right out near Richter's Pass. What happens if she wakes up? I'm telling you, she'll kill us all unless we do something!"_

"_A witch huh…"_

As her recently awakened mind struggled to make sense of the conversation, she had the vague sense they were talking about her. Fallen from the sky… Had she done that? She could hardly make sense of the memories that danced around in her head.

"_Yes! Just like the ones in all those stories! She'll bring Chaos with her, no doubt!"_

"_I'm no expert on Chaos witches, but I know damned well that they don't carry a symbol like that on their hands. Have you ever seen one with the Inquisitorial Seal burned into their skin?"_

"_Well… No, but-"_

"_That's what I thought. Now suck it up before the Commissar catches wind of your little complaints. He'll be a lot less patient with you than I've been."_

"_Yes sir… Sorry sir…"_

Their words buzzed in her ears like a swarm of insects, not fully registering with the still dazed girl. It was only when the door started to open that she was able to rise out of the fog which had gathered inside her mind. Pushing herself into a sitting position, Madoka turned to face the source of the voices.

The creak of the wooden barrier filled the room as two figures stepped inside. The first was an imposing middle aged man whose mouth was fixed in a half-frown. His head had been shaved and he was dressed in a rather worn looking military uniform of some sort. She assumed it was military at least. While she didn't recognize any of the markings, it bore the kind of solid weight that she'd associated with soldier fatigues.

The most striking feature about him was a jagged scar cutting across the left side of his cheek and down his chin. It almost appeared as though it had been made by a claw of some kind.

The second individual was less impressive. A nervous looking young man, his blonde hair was cut short and he wore a far less battered version of the clothing donned by his older counterpart. He followed behind the man reluctantly, as though expecting to be reprimanded at any moment.

Both of them stopped dead in their tracks upon seeing Madoka sitting up in her bed. For a long moment, silence reigned thick and heavy as the two parties observed one another. Just as the girl opened her mouth to say something, a fact she'd missed previously caused the words to catch in her throat.

These men were _armed_.

The older of the two had a pistol of some kind strapped to his belt. Though it wasn't drawn, his hand rested lightly on its grip as though making ready to pull it out at a moment's notice. His follower carried a rifle of some kind in his hands. Madoka was no expert on guns, but the size and bulk of the weapon sent a chill up her spine which was only reinforced by the obvious fear in his features. His desire to shift the aim of that barrel her way was as clear as a bonfire in the dead of night.

Before she started to genuinely fear for her life, the man waved his companion down.

"And here I was getting ready to sit down for an uneventful evening." He remarked dryly. "That will be all August. Head back and tell the people upstairs that our little guest is awake."

"A-Are you sure sir?" The boy asked, leaning in as though he thought whispering would be enough to hide his words from the girl across the room. "What if she… you know…"

The senior member fixed him with a long stare before shaking his head.

"Honestly kid." He sighed. "If she starts tearing open holes to the Warp and flooding this place with daemons, I doubt you'll be much help down here. Head back. I can handle this on my own."

There was an awkward pause as August shifted uncomfortably under his superior's scrutiny. With a mumbled reply she couldn't quite make out, he turned and left the room with only a single wary glance over his shoulder at her.

As soon as he was gone, the man who'd remained turned back her way. She made to get up only to have him stop her with an upturned hand.

"That's all right." He cautioned. "Just stay where you are. You've apparently been through some rather stressful events as of late if the rumors are to be believed."

Entirely lost in the confusion of the situation, Madoka leaned back against the headboard to watch quietly as he pulled up a chair. He sat down heavily, causing the piece of furniture to groan under his weight.

"How about we start with introductions?" He said, crossing his arms in front of him. "What can I call you, miss…?"

"Madoka." She replied, finding her throat to be rough and irritated. "My name is Madoka Kaname."

He took a moment to consider her name, his frown shifting as he adjusted his position in the chair. The back bent ever so slightly as he leaned down into it.

"Miss Kaname then." He nodded, his voice faltering for a brief instant on the pronunciation of her last name. "My name is Herad Marcus, and I'm the one in charge of the PDF forces stationed on Atlania."

The meaning of his words were lost on her, though the distinctly militaristic sound of his title added to her earlier assumptions that he was a soldier.

"I suppose my second question would be just what caused you to pop up out of thin air just outside the city, but I'm assuming you can't tell me much about that."

Though most of the events which had brought her here were a blur in her memory, it wasn't their lack of clarity which kept her from answering. The sheer oddity of it all made it impossible to explain to an ordinary person. Could she honestly hope to convince him that the entire world had faded out of existence after she'd made a wish with an alien feline?

"I don't remember…" She said finally, causing his shoulders to slump. He looked slightly disappointed with her answer, though not surprised. Her eyes once more glancing at the weapon on his hip, she voiced a concern which had been growing since he'd first entered the room. "Um… am I… in trouble?"

At her question, he visibly tensed. His mouth tightened into a thin line before he let his gaze wander to the wall.

"That's not for me to decide." He said. Though the inquiry had been innocent enough, he seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. "We've already contacted your superior about this… complication. I'm sure she'll be wanting to speak with you about it as soon as possible."

"My superior?" Madoka questioned. She got the distinct feeling that she was missing something important.

"Yes. Your superior." He said slowly. "The Lady Inquisitor has been informed about your arrival, and will be coming to meet with you tomorrow evening."

"Inquisitor…?" It felt ridiculous to simply parrot everything that was being said to her, but she couldn't make enough sense of the situation to formulate an actual response. Herad's frown deepened for a moment, before an expression of understanding spread across his face.

"Right." He said, appearing to speak more to himself than to her. "Of course. Asking questions is your job. Not mine. I don't know about you or the Lady Inquisitor. Your meeting never happened under my roof and I won't speak of it to anyone."

Mouth hanging half open, Madoka could only stare in total confusion. Maybe somewhere along the way her wish had removed all logic from the universe. That was about the only occurrence she could think of which would cause everything to be so topsy turvy.

"I don't understand." She said at last, deciding to be as direct as possible. "Can you please slow down for a moment? Because I haven't got the slightest idea what you're talking about."

He appeared just as confused as she felt.

"That mark on your hand." He began, gesturing to the mentioned appendage. The sight of the black marked etched into her skin caused her to jump when she looked down. She'd almost forgotten it existed. "That would be the Inquisitorial Seal correct? Which would mean that you would have to be part of the Inquisition somehow."

"But…" Grasping at invisible straws, she could hardly think to come up with some kind of answer to that. "What's the Inquisition? And what does the Seal have to do with it?"

Every word out of her mouth appeared to put him more and more on edge. Coughing lightly into his hand, Herad hesitated.

"I'm having a difficult time understanding what message you're trying to convey." He said at last. "But, you can rest assured that I'll keep this information on a need to know basis. On the off chance that you're actually serious about your ignorance…"

He cast a quick glance back towards the door as though worried someone might be watching.

"The Inquisition is… important. And I imagine you'll be learning all about it tomorrow."

She had no answer to that. The way he spoke made it very clear that learning about them wasn't a pleasant experience. Apparently taking her silence as a sign that the conversation had ended, he rose to his feet with a small grunt.

"You just sit back and get comfortable." He said, nodding down at her. "Try to get some sleep if you can. I imagine you'll need to be rested when she arrives."

"Wait!" Madoka shouted hastily as he began to turn away. There were still so many unanswered questions racing through her thoughts, but she settled on one in particular. "Where am I?"

Herad turned back to her with a raised eyebrow, pausing momentarily before replying.

"You're in Minerva hall, in the middle of the city Ashworth." He explained. "Not as impressive as a Hive, but it's the third or fourth largest settlement around. That would be planet Atlania, just in case you were wondering. Sub sector Daedalus. Now if you'll excuse me…"

He turned back to the door, pulling it open and stepping through.

"I've got an irritating amount of paperwork waiting for me. Things sure have gotten busier since you Malleus types showed up."

Madoka could only watch in stunned silence. Even after he closed the door behind him, she was still unable to bring herself to look away. Her eyes remained fixed on that wooden barrier for an age as her thoughts settled on one troubling word.

Atlania…

_Planet_ Atlania…

That couldn't be right. That simply wasn't possible. She knew that Kyubey had been an alien species, but…

Numbly slumping back down into the bed, her empty gaze turned up towards the ceiling. If there had ever been any doubt previously, she knew one fact for certain now.

Something had gone _terribly _wrong.

It had taken the better part of an hour, but the effort was well spent. Elegant blonde locks curled downwards in twin drills as the figure that had painstakingly arranged their form observed her reflection in the mirror.

All in all, Mami Tomoe was rather pleased with herself.

"What do you think?" She called over her shoulder to the waiting dress-Servitor that had been patiently standing by while she worked on her hair. "Nice isn't it?"

The being, far more machine than man, took a moment to observe her hairstyle and cross-reference it with the expected styles of her office before answering.

"This appearance does not fit with the proper conduct of a Lady Inquisitor." It said, speaking with an emotionless synthetic voice. "It does not inspire the fear and respect demanded by your station."

Mami's shoulders slumped ever so slightly as she set down her hairbrush. Turning in the chair she'd been sitting on, she gave the Servitor a long stare. To its credit, the former human was well made enough to recognize that its words had displeased its charge. Distantly registering that an upset Inquisitor could be detrimental to its structural integrity, it delved into its memory banks in the search for a less hazardous response.

"..However, given the lack of commitments scheduled for today, a less formal design may be acceptable."

She didn't budge at the reformed statement, continuing her silent rebuke as though it hadn't spoken at all. After several more moments of silence, the Servitor settled on giving the agreeable response rather than the logical one.

"…The appearance is pleasing…"

With a small smile at the pre-programmed response, Mami swiveled back to face the mirror.

"It is, isn't it?" She remarked, running her fingers lightly across the golden threads. "I think it's perfect. Just the thing I've been looking for."

That wasn't wholly true. 'What she had been looking for' went far beyond a simple hairstyle, but the change from her normally straight and bland appearance. Still, the difference was a welcome one. It compounded the knowledge that she was out from under her mentor's wing. No longer a mere Acolyte in the service of an Inquisitor, she'd attained that rank for herself with his blessing. This was her first deployment as a fully-fledged member of the Ordo Malleus.

As that thought came to her mind, the smile on her face turned downwards.

Yes. Her first real mission to a quiet little planet in the middle of nowhere. A place so tame and dull that she doubted even the Emperor paid it more than a passing glance. Gazing at her reflection, she was met with the image of a young blonde girl, her hair done in twin drills and dressed only in a silken shift that extended down to her knees. Not exactly the image of a striking Daemon Hunter.

Her good mood ruined, she leaned back in her chair with a sigh. This hadn't been her choice. No, she'd been assigned to this little corner of nowhere by those of her peers that still felt she wasn't prepared for a true mission. The fact that she, a mere eighteen year old child, had managed to attain the rank of Inquisitor had caused more than a few words of outcry. How her mentor Octavian had convinced three others of the Ordo to accept her for promotion was a mystery she doubted she'd ever fully understand.

Upon her acceptance into their ranks, those of her peers who still believed her inadequate had graciously "offered" her the chance to bring the Emperor's light to the planet Atlania. It was an insult. An entirely unimportant planet in an unimportant subsector of unimportant space. No major tactical significance and only the rumor of Chaos taint to even draw the attention of the Inquisition.

She knew better than to refuse. For the moment, she needed to appear compliant. It was too early in her career to try going against the will of her fellows, but she had resolved to remember their names that she might pay them back in the future.

Her situation hadn't improved upon arriving. Supplied with only a single regiment of guardsmen numbering five hundred strong, she'd landed to find that the taint on Atlania took the form of several minor pleasure cults which likely could have been stamped out by the local PDF forces given a bit of time. There hadn't even been a single daemon or Warp anomaly to speak of.

Things had been exceedingly uneventful up until just a couple of days ago. A rumor of a young girl falling from the sky had begun circulating among the populous. Mami had thought little of it until she'd been informed that the rumor wasn't a rumor at all. The child was very real and was currently being held under guard in the city of Ashworth. What's more, she bore the Inquisitorial seal on her hand.

Either her stay on Atlania had become much more interesting, or a meddling girl was about to find that her elaborate prank had serious consequences to go along with it. Regardless of the outcome, it would make for a nice break in the monotonous schedule she'd found herself trapped with.

A sudden knock at her door distracted her from her thoughts.

"Lady Inquisitor?" The voice trembled slightly. Not surprising given that half the population of this planet was terrified of her. Atlania hadn't seen an Inquisitor's attention since… well… never really.

"I trust this is important?" She called, keeping her words crisp and official. "You're interrupting some very delicate proceedings."

He wasn't really, but she made a point of emphasizing the importance of her privacy in her own room. With her authority already in question among the other members of the Ordo Malleus, having someone stumble in on her while she was naked could cause all sorts of embarrassing, and possibly dangerous, complications.

"A-Apologies my Lady…" She almost felt sorry for the poor lad on the other side of the door. He sounded about ready to soil himself. "I-I was told to bring you an update on the girl being held in Minerva Hall. She's awake, and she addresses herself as… uh…"

He paused, no doubt collecting his scattered thoughts as he racked his memory for the name he'd been sent to deliver.

"Ah… Madoka Kaname was her name."

Something flared in Mami's mind at the name. A feeling she couldn't quite put words to. It was not familiarity, nor affection. Rather, it was more akin to the memory of both. As though she'd once felt them during some point in her life which had been long forgotten. It was the strangest sensation.

"Madoka…" The exotic sounding name was surprisingly easy to say. For several long minutes, she simply felt the weight and substance of the name out in her mind.

The sound of uncomfortably shuffling feet from just outside her room was enough to snap her out of the mental examination. With a shake of her head, she brought herself back into the image of the Inquisitor.

"Your report has been noted." She said. "Is that all?"

She got the distinct feeling he jumped at her voice. Of course she couldn't see him, and the barrier between them would have muffled any sound made by such an action, but the momentary silence after her words had a distinctly jumpy feel to it.

"N-No ma'am… sir… uh… Lady Inquisitor… that was all."

Mami nodded before realizing the futility of the gesture.

"Return to your post then." She ordered. "Tell Commander Marcus that I will be along shortly to investigate the claims of her appearance."

The sound of rapid footsteps told her that the young man had hastily departed to follow through on her orders. He'd left so quickly he'd forgotten to acknowledge his dismissal. Not the most disciplined action, but no less than she'd come to expect from the local troops.

Though regarded with skepticism, and in some cases contempt, among her more experienced peers, the inhabitants of this planet lived in fear of her. Yes ma'am. No ma'am. Three bags full ma'am.

It was exactly what was expected of those serving under her. Many had to spend decades grooming their reputation to inspire just such a reaction out of those they came across. By rights, she should have been exceedingly pleased with the way she was received here. On some level, she supposed she was.

It was what she'd dreamt of when serving her time as an Acolyte. Images of commanding the total loyalty of entire worlds with her mere presence, waging war against the enemies of the Emperor, slaying daemons and heretic gods with an army of fabled Grey Knights at her back…

Well… Perhaps that bit was somewhat optimistic. Nevertheless, the concept of being treated with fear and respect was what any aspiring Inquisitor strove for.

She just wished it wasn't so damned lonely.

She was a member of the Ordo Malleus. A Daemon Slayer who would stop at nothing to see the taint of Chaos erased from the galaxy. A soldier dedicated body and soul to war in the Emperor's name. And, despite all that, she was a young girl. Her training had failed to wipe out the weaker parts of her humanity entirely. She still craved human contact and companionship. That touch of vulnerability had been a dangerous flaw in her personality for the longest time. Even after she'd learned to suppress it, the isolation still weighed heavily on her.

Speaking casually with the locals was out of the question. Even if they could hold a conversation with her without falling over in their haste to bow and grovel, making friends with the masses wasn't proper conduct. Her soldiers were, again, not an option as their service to her was temporary at best. They'd either die fighting for her, or be reassigned when she no longer had need of them.

The regiment's Commissar was someone she'd only speak with when desperate. While his loyalty and dedication were impressive, he had no concept of relaxation. Every word spoken was of military strategy, or improving the training of their troops, or scathing criticism for the lack of skill amongst the PDF soldiers. She could only smile and nod so many times before her neck began to hurt.

The only person around who she could hold an actual conversation with was her bodyguard, Maximillian, and he was far from a cheerful companion.

The dour feelings associated with her current predicament came and went, but she'd grown used to enduring them by now. To complain about them would be infantile. To worry about them would be pointless. Looking to solve them could be dangerous, and ignoring them would only forestall the issue.

Better to accept and carry on. All mankind owed a debt to the Emperor, and if hers was to be paid in isolation, it would be a small price compared to that demanded of so many others.

Rising from her seat, she turned to face her quarters. Four bare walls, unadorned except for a small group of papers depicting the Imperial Eagle and several verses of scripture. Her tutelage under Octavian had left her distrustful of needless regalia. Luxury led to complacency, complacency led to mistakes, and mistakes led to damnation.

On her bed, the dress-Servitor had already laid out her garments, ready to be worn. The first layer consisted of a thin black body-glove, serving both to prevent her skin from coming into direct contact with the uncomfortable materials of her equipment and to preserve her modesty should it need to be removed in the field.

A set of Carapace Armor was laid out next to it. The outfit had been a parting gift from her master, and had already proven its worth. Hidden inside the Ceramite chest piece, a small but masterfully crafted generator was fixed. It was capable of activating in an instant and shielding her body from harm behind a powerful refractor field. The pleasure cults of Atlania had learned just how strong that barrier was, much to their misfortune.

Stripping off the silk shift she'd been wearing, Mami quickly slipped inside of the black material of the body suit. The pleasantly smooth material fitted against her skin with ease. Neither too tight, nor too loose. With practice born of long repetition, she began piecing together her Carapace Armor and fixing the individual sections in place. The Servitor stood ready should she call on it for assistance, but the times she allowed one to help were few and far in between. She was a firm believer in staying familiarized with all the workings of her own armaments.

After the last piece was put into place and the last strap was tightened, she allowed her gaze to fall on the two remaining objects resting on her bed. Her pride and joy, the twin rifles that she painstakingly maintained with the diligence of any Sororitas. Both were priceless and irreplaceable to her, and both had saved her life on numerous occasions. Slim, beautiful, and capable of firing all manner of vicious ammunitions, they'd been her instruments in striking down heretics and daemons for as long as she'd served as an Acolyte to the Ordo.

She picked them up gently, almost as a mother holding a child, and let their reassuring weight settle into her hands for a brief span. The feeling brought a smile to her face. A quick glance back at her mirror served to heighten her satisfaction further.

The small girl that had been brushing her hair just a short while ago was gone. In her place was a weapon of the Ordo Malleus. Armed and armored, she was prepared to fight against whatever fiendish monstrosity was waiting out there for her.

And, if she was allowed a moment of naive vanity, the twin drills looked very cute.

"Madoka Kaname was it?" She questioned, causing the Servitor to perk up before it realized she was speaking to herself rather than to it. "Well miss Kaname, let's see how true these rumors about you are."


	3. Familiar faces

**Disclaimer: I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica or Warhammer 40k**

* * *

><p>The night had not been kind to the lone occupant of the infirmary. Madoka's eyes rested listlessly on the mark burned into her hand. In her right palm, a highly sinister and very stylized letter "I" was etched. Had she not remembered the manner in which it had arrived, she might have thought it was some kind of tattoo.<p>

Thinking back to the brief, and exceedingly one sided, conversation she'd had with the voice in the void, a ripple of unease ran across her mind. Something massive had happened. Far more than what she'd even thought possible when she'd made her wish. If what these people said was true, she was a very, _very_, long way from home.

And this mark was connected somehow.

Though dazed and confused by the madness of her arrival, Madoka had not been sitting idly by while those outside decided her fate for her. These people didn't feel friendly. Everyone she'd met so far was cold. Impersonal. Downcast. They were exceedingly wary of her, and that made her wary of them in turn.

The moment she'd been well enough to move around, she'd tried leaving the room to get a better idea of her surroundings. The walk had been cut short the moment she opened the door to find two men with guns standing guard. Though they hadn't outright threatened her, they'd made it clear she wasn't allowed to go on her way. When she'd needed to use the bathroom, they'd refused to let her out of their sight. She'd been exceedingly thankful that her willpower had held out long enough for them to call down a female soldier so she might be spared from having a man watch. Though these people had treated and watched over her while she recovered, her position now was never in doubt. She was a prisoner as much as a patient.

Beyond that, she'd occupied most of her time with looking through the contents of her newly realized cell. Her goal was anything she could find to tell her what was going on. A newspaper, a computer, something that could convey information.

Her efforts only uncovered several pamphlets on a table in the corner advertising something called the Imperial Guard. Some kind of military force from the looks of it. The papers rather zealously encouraged the reader to "do their duty" and "fight for the Emperor" all of which only added to her confusion. From what she could tell, these people had a distinctly western look to them. She'd certainly never heard of England, Russia, or America having an emperor before.

Frustratingly enough, her search failed to answer any questions, and only raised new ones in turn. Who was the Emperor? Where was she now? Could this really be a different planet? If so, why had she been sent here? Nowhere in her wish did she ask to be thrown across the galaxy to an alien world.

Subtler details also made themselves known to her fearful subconscious. Little things that could easily have been overlooked had she not spent the past sixteen hours or so with nothing to do but think and pick apart her situation.

For example, how was she able to communicate?

Madoka wasn't a fool. She could piece two and two together, and she was more than capable of seeing the obvious. Another world meant another culture. Another way of life. Another language. Something was making the connections for her. Translating an alien tongue into something she could recognize, and vice versa. If she paid attention when she read or spoke, she could almost perceive it.

Thoughts on her situation only served to drag her into depression. Everything was out of place. Nothing made sense anymore. Whether it was the grim demeanor of her captors, the subdued appearance of her surroundings, or the simple lack of anything that resembled what she'd used to know, she couldn't prevent one singular idea from dominating her mind.

She desperately wanted to go home.

Not just before her wish had undone the world, but before her life had been torn asunder. She missed living a happy normal life with her family. She missed walking to school with Sayaka and Hitomi. She missed hanging out with Mami. And of course, she missed her enigmatic friend, Homura.

It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but she refused to give in to the drops which threatened to fall. She might have been little more than a child, but to cry here, surrounded by strangers and darkness, would have been a show of weakness she wasn't prepared to make.

The morose tedium of being trapped in her room came to an end when the door opened up, revealing Herad Marcus. The man looked just as controlled as the last time she'd seen him, but there was a distinct purpose to his movements now.

"Miss Kaname." He acknowledged, stopping just inside the doorway and giving her a nod. "It's good to see that you're awake. The person of interest we discussed yesterday has arrived."

It took several moments for her head to sift through the mixture of tearful memories of her recently shattered life and recall what they'd discussed the day before. Though most of what had been said didn't make sense to her, she could still remember the words themselves.

"You mean the… um… Inquisitor?" She ventured. Madoka hadn't the slightest idea what an Inquisitor's job in modern society was, but it couldn't be anything good.

"…Yes." He replied hesitantly, almost looking uncomfortable with discussing the subject. "She's waiting for you in the courtyard. I can take you there now, or if there's something absolutely vital you have to do first, I can have one of your guards take you when you're done."

"Wasn't that going to be in the afternoon?" She didn't know why she even bothered asking. It was an automatic question, more an attempt to grasp at something she could understand than anything actually important.

"It was." He said. "But she moved it up. You've apparently made quite the impression on her with your arrival. Whether that's a good thing or not remains to be seen."

The tone of his voice caused the knot of unease in her chest to tighten exponentially. All of a sudden, curling up on the uncomfortable bed and hiding beneath the covers with nothing to do seemed much more appealing than it had been a minute ago. In the hopes of delaying her coming ordeal, she searched for some manner of task which could possibly be important enough to take priority.

"Would it be all right if I had something to eat first?" She asked, grasping at the first option that came to mind. It wasn't a mild desire either. She hadn't eaten since her arrival, which was at least a full day not counting the time she'd been unconscious. She'd been too caught up in worrying to stop and think about food until now.

The stern frown Herad wore deepened, making it clear how much he disapproved of the question.

"That wouldn't be wise." He stated, gesturing for her to get up and follow. "Believe me. Going hungry for a while is a much smaller trial than keeping an Inquisitor waiting."

Her shoulders slumped at the seriousness of his tone, but she rose up from her bed regardless. Some part of her was looking forwards to the walk as a change in scenery even as the fear of coming face to face with this strange figure of power continued to grow in her chest. Maybe this person would be able to explain what was going on.

Trying, and failing, to look calm and collected, she made her way over to the waiting man.

"I'm ready." She said, feeling anything but. Herad responded with a curt nod, opening the door back up and taking the lead. As Madoka made to go after him, she was struck by an oddly liberating sensation. Almost as if she'd been suffocating without even knowing it, and had only now remembered how to breathe. Being confined to that infirmary had been more taxing than she'd thought.

The feeling of freedom didn't last long. As soon as she began following him outside, the two guards who'd been standing at her door took up positions behind them. It was an acute reminder of how serious the situation was.

The hallway they stepped out into was hardly remarkable. Light brown walls with a modest amount of decoration, mostly in the form of cloth embroidered with images of what looked like a two headed eagle. On her right, they'd occasionally pass another branching path, but Herad never turned towards any of them, leaving their contents to her imagination. The wall to her left was almost entirely bare. Only several large cracks and a door or two to break up the solid surface.

As they continued on their way, something nagged the back of her mind. The place looked abandoned.

"Where is everyone?" She wondered aloud, not really expecting a reply. It came as a surprise when Herad actually paused the march for a moment to consider her question. An internal debate seemed to go on behind his eyes as if he couldn't decide whether or not sharing the information was something he had the authority to do. Eventually, he gave a small shrug and addressed her.

"Well." He started, rubbing his chin. "The Lady Inquisitor had most of our troops stationed up near Marigold. There's a pleasure cult taking hold there which looked like it could become problematic. A few others have been sent out into the barrens to investigate claims of phantom apparitions, and at least forty were killed in last week's bombing. A good number of our boys have been on watch since then. There's only around a hundred people or so around here right now."

It was said so casually and in such an offhanded manner that she almost missed it. Coming to a dead stop, she looked up at him in shock.

"Forty people were killed?" She questioned, certain she'd misheard. Nobody could be that at ease with mentioning the deaths of that many people. Especially not if it had happened so recently.

"Forty three if you want to be exact." He answered. "A bomb went off in the one of the outer habitation centers. Apparently someone thought they'd take advantage of there being an Inquisitor in the city and try to send them a message. No need to worry though. The sorry sod who did it was executed, and he didn't manage to kill anyone important."

A pain which had nothing to do with hunger began making itself known in her gut. She wasn't a stranger to death. She'd seen her friends die, one after another. But the sheer simplicity he spoke of it with, as though it was no more noteworthy that a cloudy afternoon, left her feeling more than a little sick.

Either not noticing or not caring about her discomfort, Herad resumed the walk. Her legs moved for her, mechanically following behind. She didn't ask any more questions after that. She didn't want to know the answers to them.

A short while later, he came to a halt once more, ending their journey in front of a large set of double doors. A very old man in strange robes stood barring their way. The wrinkled fingers of his right hand were wrapped around some sort of staff which was crowned with the same eagle design that had been on the banners, and a dome-like metal hat adorned his head. His appearance vaguely reminded her of a medieval priest or monk. Maybe that's what he was. Inquisitor was a role traditionally associated with religion, after all.

He raised his free hand in an order to stop as they drew close.

"Halt." He commanded, his voice bearing a strength which denied his obvious age. "The Lady Inquisitor is using the courtyard and wishes not to be disturbed. Unless you have specific business, turn back the way you came."

"No need to be so unwelcoming." Herad chided, earning him a deep frown from the robed man. "As a matter of fact, we do have business with her Ladyship. This is the girl that fell from the sky. I'm told that your mistress was rather eager to meet her."

"This is the girl Madoka Kaname?" He asked, turning his gaze upon her. It was like being under the eyes of a lion sizing up an intruder it had found lurking in its den.

"The very same." Herad confirmed. "Now, if you'd like to let us through, I'd like to get this whole thing over with as soon as possible."

He took a single step forwards before the old man raised his hand to stop them again.

"The Lady Inquisitor has deigned to speak with the girl alone." He stated, giving a meaningful glance to the two guards at her back. "The rest of you may return to your posts. I will take over from here."

A single instant of hesitation was the only indication Herad gave that he didn't like the idea of her entering alone. Or it may have simply been that he was caught off guard. The moment passed long before she could really think about it.

"In that case, I'll let you handle things." He offered, gesturing for Madoka to step forwards. "Hey kid, put in a good word for me with the lady in charge, would ya? This place is making me stir crazy, and I'd appreciate transferring back to an actual Guard position sometime before I die if at all possible."

With that, he and the two others who'd been following up until this point headed back the way they'd come. She watched them go, a vibrant pang of fear bursting in her heart with the knowledge that the few people she'd actually had contact with during her recovery had left her. It was with the utmost hesitance that she turned to face the old man in front of the door again.

As her pink eyes turned up towards him, his near colorless grey ones peered back at her with the ominous weight of gathering storm clouds. While not openly threatening, they carried the promise of dire ramifications should his ire be roused.

"Show me your hand."

The sudden command caused her to jump slightly. Taking a second to process the order, she raised up her right arm and opened her hand palm-up for him to examine. She was still aware of the situation enough to realize what he was referring to.

His gaze lowered to the mark burned into her skin, staring at it as though he could pierce all its inner workings with only his sight. He didn't hold her wrist to steady the slight tremor that ran up the limb, nor did he move to make any sort of contact with her. Gulping down her rising unease, Madoka began looking for some way to break the tension that pervaded the halls.

"What's your name?" The question left her mouth before she fully understood what she was asking. When it caused his eyes to flick back towards her, she hastily made to apologize for the interruption only to be cut off when he spoke.

"Maximillian." He stated, his voice devoid of any inflection. "Personal bodyguard of the Lady Inquisitor."

"Oh…" The tension began creeping in as her voice petered off. Deciding she preferred his flat tone to the silence, she pushed a bit further. "What is she like? The others didn't really tell me anything about her yet."

He gave a dismissive grunt while nodding for her to lower her arm. Turning to the left, he stepped aside so that she could pass through the double doors.

"This is indeed the mark." He said, turning the knob and pushing it open for her. "She is waiting for you in the center of the courtyard. You may draw your own conclusions about her character during your discussion."

It was difficult not to look too dejected with his dismissal of her curiosity. Head bowed, she made her way past the grim faced Maximillian and stepped into the courtyard. The door groaned shut behind her, sounding for all the world like the headpiece locking her into a guillotine.

Trying to stay away from such dismal thoughts, she looked up at her surroundings. A gasp broke free from her chest as her eyes went wide in wonder at the sights before her.

Where the previous compound had been dull and drab, this area was alight with beauty. All manner of exotic looking flora specimens were arranged to make a path for her to follow. Flowers the size of her head, emblazoned with strikingly vibrant colors of all kinds, dotted the edges of vines thick as her arms, which in turn clung to man-made pillars reaching towards the sky. Bushes carrying tiny yellow buds were trimmed with an almost perfect precision, walling her off to the left and right. Looking up, she was greeted by the sight of the morning sky soaring above her.

A slow smile crept along her features as a sense of giddy awe washed over her. Some part of her had been worrying that this new and strange place was devoid of all hope and color. It brought her no small amount of joy to see that this wasn't the case.

Letting her feet carry her forwards, she drank in the sights and sensations with the eagerness of one dying of thirst. Sweet scents tickled her nose while a gentle breeze wafted by, rustling the leaves of the bushes in a pleasant natural symphony. Her hand reached out and brushed the edges of the hedges as she walked, taking in the unusually smooth feel of the branches and the soft, almost fuzzy, foliage. For a blissfully short period, her world consisted of those immediate surroundings and the light crunch of the grass underfoot.

Her solitary passage came to an end when she spotted a clearing up in front of her. The bushes spread out, forming a circular area where a table had been set up with three chairs arranged around it. Several teacups were laid out on its surface, with a bulky kettle placed in the middle of them. Those details only registered in her mind for a second. Madoka's attention was devoted far more to the individual that was already seated at the table.

The Lady Inquisitor, for she couldn't think of who else this could possibly be, had her back to the girl. Even without being able to see her face, Madoka's breath left her in a rush, all her former calm drawn forcibly out of her body.

The woman wore a militaristic looking set of body armor. Even though it certainly wasn't built for looks, the garments didn't completely hide her developing figure. She had the kind of image that could easily turn the heads of all but the most disciplined men she passed.

The thing that drew Madoka in, the detail which pierced her heart with icy hooks, was her hair. Blonde locks woven into two drills on either side. The style was so reminiscent of her old mentor that she could hardly think straight...

As though sensing she was being watched, the Inquisitor turned in her seat to face the new arrival. When she did, all conscious thought was blasted out of the pinkette's mind.

It was her.

The soft features, carrying a power that was both incredibly strong and terribly fragile at the same time.

Those eyes, golden pools that held a warmth buried beneath a distance created by near total isolation.

That ever present half-smile, giving the impression of someone who found a measure of amusement in everything that went on around her.

It was her.

Time ground to a halt as Madoka's very being trembled with emotion. It was impossible. She knew it was impossible, and yet she couldn't deny what was before her. She'd seen the blonde's headless body tumble from the jaws of the Witch that had taken her life, and yet here she was, looking as pleasant and serene as ever. Madoka no longer remembered nor cared why she was here. All that mattered was the name of this individual in front of her.

"Mami!" She cried, her body flying into motion before she even realized what she was doing.

She dashed into the clearing, her only goal to close the distance between herself and the figure still seated at the table. She didn't know what she was going to do when she reached her, but she knew she had to get close to her. To make contact. To do _something_ to prove that this was real and that she wasn't-

Pain exploded in Madoka's temple as something struck the side of her head with the force of a hurled brick. Crying out, the girl's legs crumpled, sending her crashing into the grass which no longer felt quite so soft. The moment she hit the ground, something heavy slammed down on her back, forcing a chocked gasp out of her throat and pinning her down. Through the haze of shock and surprise, she became aware of a distinctly metallic object being pressed to the base of her skull.

"So…" Came a masculine voice, suffused with a tone of triumphant satisfaction. "An assassin after all? I suspected as much. Do you have any final words before you pay for your crimes?"

Panic flooded her system as the words sunk in, causing her words to scatter like insects before a fire. Thankfully for her, another spoke up in her place.

"Now, now, Gilliam, ease up on the poor girl." Mami remarked, the corners of her mouth twitching. "I think you may have overreacted on that one."

The pressure on her back didn't ease up in the slightest.

"She was charging directly towards you." He shot back, his knee pressing painfully into her spine. "What else could she possibly have been intending?"

"I don't know. Perhaps we could let her explain herself before taking such drastic action." She replied, sounding disturbingly calm with the current topic. "Besides, she's clearly unarmed. It isn't like she could do much to hurt me as she is now."

Gilliam scoffed, and action which caused the leg pinning her down to jam into her lower back.

"I hardly think I need to remind you that appearances mean nothing when dealing with daemons."

The blonde's eyebrows lowered, her voice losing its slightly amused edge.

"Your concern is noted and appreciated." She said curtly. "But if this girl was possessing any Warp-spawned powers, she'd never have made it past Maximillian, now would she?"

The uncomfortable standoff continued for several long moments while Madoka became far more closely acquainted with the dirt than she'd ever wanted to be. Eventually, the pressure keeping her down lifted off, and the sound of footsteps told her that the man was stepping away from her.

"Keep in mind, I have my eye on you. One wrong step and I won't hesitate to put you down." He warned.

Madoka rose shakily to her feet, casting a worried glance over her shoulder at the man who'd attacked her. He was an impressive figure, dressed in dark crimson regalia and bearing a matching hat on his head. Everything about him, from his crisp attire to his sharp features, was honed to a razor's edge. If Maximillian had been a lion, Gilliam was a viper, ready to strike at a moment's notice. A sleek pistol was gripped in his left hand. Her breath caught in her throat as she realized it had been the object placed against the back of her head just moments ago.

She could only murmur a half-formed apology under her breath, edging away from his clear hostility ever so slightly.

When she no longer felt as though her life was in immediate danger from the man, she turned back to face the one who'd first caught her attention.

"You'll have to forgive him for punching you like that." Mami commented, the light touch of cheer returning to her voice. "He's been getting rather overeager lately with the lack of action we've been seeing. Would you be so kind as to explain why you tried to rush me like that?"

Every word was a dagger, carving open Madoka's heart and letting her insides bleed out through the cracks. Tears were already forming in her eyes, and this time she didn't know if she could hope to hold them back. There was no recognition. No feeling that acknowledged her past with the young girl. The impossible miracle was quick on the track to becoming a nightmare.

"Mami…" She uttered, hardly loud enough to be heard. "It's me… Madoka…"

The blonde's smile faltered for a brief instant, but it passed just as quickly as it had come.

"I am Inquisitor Tomoe of the Ordo Malleus, and I will be addressed as such." She asserted, allowing a touch of displeasure into her words. "Failing that, you may refer to me as Lady Inquisitor. I'm well aware of your name miss Kaname, but you still haven't answered my question."

"I…"

In that moment, it felt as though the floor had opened up and dropped her straight down into the abyss. Mami was here, Mami was alive. But she didn't know her.

This wasn't the same blonde girl that had saved her and Sayaka from their first encounter with a Witch. Now that reality had overridden her rush of joy at finding her friend, she could see that. This girl was older. Whereas her Mami had only been slightly her elder, this one was closer to being a young adult. Though her features were unmistakable, they lacked most of the same childish softness of her mentor.

What's more, the tools she used were vastly different. Propped up against the table, two large rifles lay, previously unnoticed. Madoka knew very little about guns but even she could tell that they looked nothing like the intricate flintlock weapons Mami had been able to call up normally. They were cold. Efficient.

Deadly.

"I thought you were someone else…" She offered up meekly. The odd comment earned a questioning look from the Inquisitor, but she didn't continue.

"I see." Mami replied. "In that case, I would like to get this discussion underway as soon as possible. Please, have a seat."

Though her words were pleasant, there was a weight to them which left Madoka with little doubt that they were more an order than an offering. With her shoulders slumping, she sat in the chair directly across from her counterpart, shifting in slight discomfort when she made contact with the chair's cold metal frame.

"Commissar Gilliam, if you would?" Mami commented, nodding towards the kettle in the center of the table. Despite the man's commanding appearance, he neither hesitated nor complained when she asked. He stepped forwards, taking the pot and pouring two cups of steaming tea, before placing them in front of both girls and retaking his station in the background.

Madoka waited nervously, wondering if this was some sort of test she was supposed to undergo. It wasn't until Mami raised her own cup for a sip that she decided it was merely for the sake of comfort.

Taking a hesitant sip of the liquid, she was treated to a subtly sweet and altogether wonderful flavor. Not so strong as to be overwhelming, but not so thin as to be empty. It was so reminiscent of what she'd used to drink when talking with the Mami she'd known that she almost couldn't stand it. She might have even stopped drinking entirely were it not for the emptiness in her stomach. Though tea wasn't exactly filling, it was far better than nothing.

"Well, it looks like you were thirsty." Mami said in amusement when Madoka had emptied her cup. "I take it they hadn't bothered to feed you while you were in the infirmary?"

The younger girl could only offer a shake of her head in response.

"That won't do at all." She continued. "I'll have to have a word with Herad about that. I can understand fearing something one doesn't understand, but starving subjects of interest is thoroughly unacceptable."

"I-I don't think he meant it." Madoka interjected, causing the Inquisitor to raise an eyebrow. "He sounded like he was trying to help when he came to speak with me. Eating probably slipped his mind. I know that I didn't think of it until this morning."

Her finger idly tapping the side of her cup, Mami gave a small noise of contemplation as if deciding whether she was honest in what she was saying, or merely trying to cover for someone else's incompetence. Coming to a decision, she nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind then." She said. "But I will need to speak with him regardless. Had you been under his care for any great length of time and suffered damage due to his negligence before I had a chance to question you… Well. That would have been a problem."

Madoka was tempted to ask just what she meant when she said 'question', but something in the blonde's voice convinced her it was better that she didn't know. When no response came from the pink haired girl, Mami took the opportunity to move their discussion along.

"Now then." She said, moving her tea to the side and leaning forwards. "I'd like to hear just how you got here, and how you came across that marking on your hand."

There was something in her eyes that went beyond simple interest. It was hungry. Totally unlike anything she'd seen from the mentor she'd known. A chill settled in Madoka's core as she wondered if all her friends were here somewhere, so utterly different than the way they were supposed to be. She didn't know whether it would be a good thing or not to find them like this.

"I'm not very sure about the details." She offered, casting her gaze downward so that she wouldn't be facing that expression head on. "And… I don't think you'll believe me when I tell you."

"You'd be surprised what kinds of things I've seen." Mami said. "In my experiences, I've been faced with many situations most would consider impossible. Start from the beginning. Include all the details you know. Tell me everything."

Gulping down her unease, Madoka took a breath to steady herself. She knew this would have to happen eventually, but that didn't make the moment any easier. Opening her mouth, she began her story.

* * *

><p>The Warp was an inscrutable plane. Time and space meant nothing. The laws of creations were broken on a regular basis. To simply exist in such a place would be enough to shatter the minds of even the strongest individual, sending the broken shards of their sanity spiraling into oblivion. It was a place of madness that mortal minds couldn't hope to truly conceive of.<p>

On this day, the Warp _shuddered_.

Lesser daemons and unnatural entities scattered in a blind panic, their essence being ruptured at the seams by a presence even more twisted than their own. Throughout the endless depths of the void, pealing laughter echoed, winding and seething along the trails of insanity that bore it aloft. In the mortal realm, dozens of worlds were touched by devastating hurricanes, tsunamis, and volcanic eruptions, killing countless people of all different species. Their suffering and despair was drawn into the darkness, feeding the malignant laughter and strengthening it even as it tore their very lives away.

The cycle of slaughter and reaping continued for an indiscernible time, measured only in the number of souls drawn into the hungering maw of the one that caused it. When its hunger was momentarily sated the voice's laughter slowed, petering off into a fit of manic giggling and finally silence.

Though the outside world knew it only as a series of disasters, the denizens of the Warp could recognize it for what it was. Some fled to their masters, knowing that the information of what they'd felt needed to be delivered immediately. Others pursued the source of the laughter, seeking to destroy it and gain favor with their gods. All knew what it meant.

Deep in the madness of the ether, a monster had been born.


	4. Worn out places

**Special thanks to both Erednay and BIBITOT for helping sort out both lore and structural details. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica or Warhammer 40k**

* * *

><p>Madoka chose not to meet the gaze of the young woman sitting across from her. Instead, she fixed her attention firmly on the caramel colored liquid resting in the bottom of her cup. Being halfway through her third helping of tea, she'd sated her empty stomach enough to slow down and examine it. It was smooth and clear, reflecting a slightly distorted image of her troubled face right back up to her.<p>

Roughly five minutes had passed since she'd finished her explanation to Mami. True to her word, the older girl had taken in everything she said with a professional detachment, only interrupting to ask for clarification. Throughout the entire process, she'd kept her expression impassive. Never letting looks of doubt or interest color Madoka's telling of the events. Even so, he younger girl couldn't help but feel self-conscious.

There were some things she'd wanted to hold back. Some things that felt too personal to go over in such a formal interrogation. Her encounter with Homura for example. The amount that her raven haired friend had sacrificed to save her wasn't something she was keen to share with just anyone. She'd normally have spoken to the blonde gunslinger about it without pause, but she and this Inquisitor were two different girls.

It didn't matter what she felt. Mami picked up on her hesitation and gently, but firmly, directed the conversation towards the things she was trying to avoid. In the end, she told her everything. Her first encounter with Kyubey. The deaths of her friends, Mami herself included. Right down to her wish and reality warping events that had followed it.

When Madoka had gone over everything, her questioner had lapsed into a thoughtful silence. The only sound that could be heard was the rustling of loose branches as the wind disturbed the bushes all around them.

She could see Gilliam out of the corner of her eye. He'd remained as stoically unmoving as Mami herself, not so much as shifting his weight from foot to foot since the conversation had begun. She wondered if he even blinked. If not, her earlier comparison of him to a snake might have been more accurate than she'd thought.

"Miss Kaname?" The sudden sound of Mami's voice caused her to jump in her seat. Slightly flustered, she looked back up to find herself pressured under the Inquisitor's frowning scrutiny.

"Yes?" She squeaked.

"Where did all of this take place?"

The seemingly innocent question held a very sinister weight to it. Something about the way it was asked made her certain it was asking far more about the city she lived in.

"Japan." She replied, fairly certain she'd mentioned it already. "Mitakihara Town in Japan."

Mami's mouth formed a thin line as she let the full measure of her gaze fall on the pink haired girl in front of her. Madoka willed herself not to back down, meeting her gaze with only a slight trembling under the unfamiliar intensity. The wordless battle of wills continued until the Inquisitor leaned back with a small sigh.

"Miss Kaname." She began, her tone grave. "What you have told me should, normally, be utterly impossible."

She felt as though she'd been punched in the chest. True, she'd known full well that her story strained belief, but to have it dismissed so easily by someone who bore a striking resemblance to her friend stung.

The blonde continued, not bringing attention to her stricken expression.

"You say that these events transpired in Japan? That simply cannot be correct. I haven't heard that name except in passing, but if memory serves, it is a continent that is located on Terra, correct?"

"Japan… is an island on Earth." She replied, her words sounding strange and foreign. Discussing her home planet in such a manner wasn't something she was well accustomed to.

Mami nodded as though confirming her own statement.

"As I suspected." She stated. "The place you've described hasn't existed for a very long time. Holy Terra is the single most well defended planet in the galaxy. There are countless ships and armies standing against any encroaching force, and yet you expect me to believe that daemonic entities and a xenos species managed to take root on the most sacred ground in the Imperium?"

Madoka fidgeted uncomfortably. There was nothing she could hope to say to that. By this point, she'd given up hope of trying to understand half the things people here said to her.

"…And you go on to describe being thrown into the presence of not one, but multiple alien forces, and even a congregation of daemonic aspects. The details you've given are sparse, but assuming you're telling the truth, it's enough to convince me you've had direct contact with agents of the Ruinous Powers. How you managed to walk away from an encounter like that without bearing any visible signs of corruption I can only guess at."

She paused the speech, closing her eyes and taking a breath. When she opened them again, they contained the strangest mixture of hard-edged condemnation and subtle sympathy.

"Yet, despite all of this, you don't even realize what you've been implying, do you?" She questioned. "You speak of impossible miracles, and soul-burning damnation without the slightest understanding of either. Let me ask you, do the words 'God Emperor of Mankind' mean anything to you?"

There was no point in hiding it. Though she could feel the importance of the title in the way Mami spoke it, she couldn't claim to know what it referred to. A small shake of her head was all the answer the Inquisitor needed.

"I thought not." Her words were quiet, blending into the mild background noise of the courtyard. "Madoka Kaname, I will ask you only one more question. Answer it truthfully. If you give the wrong answer, or if I think you're lying to me, there will be terrible consequences."

The girl's mouth went dry as a shiver ran up her spine. She could see Gilliam shifting his posture off to the side. Something in the way he stood made her certain his hand was gripping his gun in preparation.

"_When_ did all of this take place?"

She took a moment to collect herself before answering. Though the oddity of her surroundings were taking their toll on her nerves, she had nothing to hide. Least of all something as minuscule as the date.

"March and April." She said, feeling a small measure of pride at how steady her voice was. "The year two thousand and eleven."

Mami froze, a carefully neutral expression fixed on her face as she took in the statement. She silently mouthed the date as though trying to discern its validity through trial alone

"If that is true… Miss Kaname…" She said. "Then you would be roughly thirty nine thousand years old."

All prior stability, all of Madoka's carefully crafted self-control, vanished in an instant. Her mouth dropped open in uncomprehending shock, not able to fully process what she'd just been told. Had it not been for a sudden breeze cutting across her face and snapping her out of the trance, she might have remained that way until her questioners had decided to shake her back to the present.

"Mami…?" She asked, a slight edge of desperation coloring her voice as she tried to pretend she hadn't just heard that. "What year is this…?"

Though in much better control of her own emotions, the older girl was also visibly thrown off by the numbers at work. She didn't even comment on the use of her first name rather than that of her official title.

"If your home uses the same calendar and time measurements as we do, that would mean you were from the second millennia." She explained, putting the words together carefully as though worried they might fall apart if she put a single one out of place. "We are currently in the forty first millennia. Thirty nine thousand years from the date you've given me."

Madoka's body all but collapsed into her chair. She could hardly even focus enough to keep a small whimper from escaping.

Thirty nine thousand years. The number was so high that she couldn't fully grasp just what a jump in time it was. It was like listening to history lessons about what the world looked like when dinosaurs walked the Earth. No matter how invested in the subject you were, it just didn't fully register that such a massive change was real.

"You've put me in a rather awkward position, Miss Kaname." Mami said with a wry smile. "It is… difficult… to accept your story at face value, and yet your reactions, details, and apparent ignorance makes it just as difficult to believe you're lying."

Her hand reached up to her forehead, massaging her temple momentarily as though trying to relieve whatever pressure was building up behind it.

"Whatever the case may be, the solution is the same at least." She remarked, turning to the silently vigilant figure behind her. "Gilliam? Fetch Maximillian for me. Tell him I have a task that requires his particular set of skills."

The Commissar looked thoroughly displeased by the order. Though he'd complied readily up to that point, he made no attempt to hide his dislike of whatever skills the other man had to offer. Despite this, he stopped at appearances and chose not to voice his opinions out loud.

"Very well." He relented after a moment's pause. "Shall I take up his station at the door, or would you prefer I return with him?"

"It would be best if you stood guard at the door. If someone were to wander in here during the process, it could have rather unfortunate side effects."

With a curt nod, the young man departed, leaving the two alone in the courtyard with a semi-tense quiet descending between them. In an attempt to both alleviate the barrier, and distract herself from the knowledge of how far from home she'd found herself, Madoka spoke up.

"What happens now?" She asked, sending a questioning glance towards the girl sitting opposite her.

"Maximillian is a Psyker." She stated simply, as though the situation could be explained with only those words. When her younger counterpart showed no signs of understanding, she went on. "He possesses psychic talents which will let him get to the bottom of this whole mess. One ability he's shown a particular aptitude for is prying into the minds of others. When he arrives, he's going to take a look inside your head to see if the story you've been telling me is the truth, a lie, a fabricated memory, or some other form of trickery."

At this, Madoka had to fight in order to keep herself from flinching. The idea that someone could simply peer into her memory, delving into things both private and precious, was abhorrent. The idea that such a thing could happen to her, and that Mami would not only _let_ it happen, but order it, felt like a terrible betrayal even if this version of her mentor was not the same one she'd known.

"And what if I don't agree?" She asked, surprising herself with the amount of indignation in her voice and earning a raised eyebrow from the Inquisitor.

"I'll say this plainly." Mami began. "From what you've told me, you willingly consorted with a xeno. That's a crime punishable by death, and one I _normally _would have a duty to carry out. More than that, you may have been exposed to the Warp which would carry the very real possibility of Chaos corruption. Something which is also punishable by death. In the event that none of this was true, meaning you never made contact with aliens or traveled through the void, then you would have been lying to a member of the Ordo Malleus."

"Which is also punishable by death." Madoka finished numbly.

"Exactly." The blonde nodded. "By rights, you should be executed right now for the safety of everyone here. However, given the nature of the information you've given, I think it would be best to take a closer look at your story first."

Distantly, the young girl remembered the time Homura had told her about the alternate timelines. In one of them, upon finding out the nature of Witches and where they came from, Mami had broken down and tried killing the rest of them in order to prevent their souls from being drawn into despair and giving birth to more of the monsters. Was this what kind of a person she'd been all along? One who would sign the death warrant of a child merely to prevent the possibility of danger? No. She couldn't believe that. She might not know much about this Tomoe's nature beyond what she'd seen here, but hers had been kind and giving. She was a hero. This one… She didn't know what to make of her.

"So you'll kill me if I refuse to let him into my head?" She asked quietly.

"Of course." The Inquisitor replied, looking genuinely surprised by the question. "Did you expect anything else?"

"No… I guess not…"

Her eyes dropped to the grass once more as the conversation died off. She felt cold. Not the cold that came from being exposed to a harsh winter, but that which resulted from knowing your life was entirely in the hands of another. One whom you didn't know if you could actually trust. By this point, the two rifles leaning against the table were making their presence vividly known to the disheartened girl.

As the silence stretched on, she tried her very best to avoid looking at the young woman seated across at her. She cast her gaze all around, but found it to be quite difficult to keep herself distracted. It was like sitting next to a bomb. No matter how much you tried to ignore it, you simply couldn't The uncomfortable feeling of being trapped had returned once more, and sitting like this only served to magnify its effects.

"What is an Inquisitor?" The words were spoken automatically. Something she could use to break the wall that had been forming around them. With all the talk of death and execution, Madoka was simply desperate to have some other idea to keep in her head. "Everyone looks so... scared whenever they talk about you. Is it because you're one?"

Mami gave her a curious look, having not expected any further questions from the downcast child next to her.

"That would take a very long time to explain in detail." She offered, taking a light sip from her teacup. "In short, the Inquisition is responsible for keeping mankind safe from the dangers of the beings that lurk in the dark. We are tasked with hunting down any and all enemies of the Imperium, no matter how difficult the journey to do so may be. The Ordo Hereticus is the branch responsible for weeding out heretics and traitors. The Ordo Xenos, as the name may imply, specializes in exterminating aliens. The Ordo Malleus, the branch I belong to, is dedicated to the destruction of daemons and Warp spawned monstrosities. If the people of Atlania fear me..."

She took a moment to set down her cup, the soft clink of its descent serving to add gravity to her next words.

"...It's because they're intelligent enough to recognize how serious my purpose is."

Folding her hands in her lap, Mami let the implications of that hang in the air above their heads. Though she still found herself heavily confused as to much of the names and details, an image was starting to form in Madoka's head. Despite being vastly different in context and mannerism, there were similarities between both versions of the blonde girl. Maybe, given time, she might just find a way to explain the strange duplicate of her mentor. Curiosity subdued in for the moment, Madoka sat back to wait.

It wasn't long before Maximillian arrived. The robed man looked just as grim and somber as ever. Fitting really, in a place as seemingly hopeless as this.

"You requested a Psyker, my lady?" He asked, actually causing Mami to chuckle and roll her eyes. If the situation hadn't been so dark, Madoka might have thought there was some kind of joke she was missing.

"Yes. I did." She answered. "Miss Kaname here has been telling me a very interesting story. I need to know if it's true or not. I trust you can handle finding that out for me?"

He turned and regarded the pink haired girl with a measured glance. She simply stared back, wanting nothing more than to be back home where the world made sense. Was that really too much to ask for?

"If that is your order, Lady Inquisitor." He responded, taking the unused chair and dragging it so that he was seated directly next to Madoka. "Is there anything specific you wish me to look for, or shall I just get a view of everything?"

"I want to determine whether or not she really is who she claims to be. Take a look at her past, and commit the details to memory. When you're done, I want a full report of what you've seen." She explained. "Oh…" She added, almost as an afterthought. "And be careful you don't damage her. I haven't decided how she'll be dealt with just yet, and it would be a terrible shame if anything were to happen to her in the meantime."

He hesitated at the order, whilst Madoka couldn't help but shudder at the mention of being damaged by what was about to happen. Maximillian looked somewhat thoughtful, as though pondering the best manner in which to go about his task, before nodding to himself and drawing level with her.

"Look up at me." He ordered. "Meet my eyes. It will not be pleasant, but the less you resist the easier this will go."

"Is it going to hurt?" She asked, already growing anxious. The question gave him pause.

"I imagine it will." He answered bluntly. "The comfort of the one being interrogated is not typically a concern. I will however, be doing everything in my power to ensure that you remain unharmed."

She was about ready to resign herself to the fact that she'd find no reassurance here when aid came from an unexpected source.

"There's no need to worry." Mami said. "Maximillian is very talented at navigating the minds of others. It's one of the reasons he's here. You'll be perfectly fine. Just try to remain calm and do as he says."

Though far from gentle or compassionate, her words served to help soothe some of the fear that had been growing in Madoka's chest. Whether the gesture was done out of genuine concern for her, or simply as a way of keeping her complacent was open to interpretation, but it was better than nothing.

"All right." She said, still holding more than a few reservations about what was about to happen. "I think I'm ready."

She looked up to meet his eyes, finding them fixed on her position without actually _looking_ at her specifically. He appeared to be more fixated on some pocket of space that she was occupying. The effect was disconcerting in the extreme, but she didn't get the chance to worry about it.

A sudden wave of vertigo washed over Madoka as she looked up at him. Before she could even think of orienting herself, she was falling. Down into the depths of a place that felt totally alien and incredibly familiar at the same time.

As the world around her faded to darkness and her senses were suddenly left with nothing to hold onto, she did what any sane individual would. She struggled. Desperately attempting right herself, she fought against the near-weightless freefall while grasping out for any semblance of up or down. With each twist and turn she became more turned around than ever before, leading her to start genuinely fearing for her safety.

As she twisted in place, attempting to find her footing in the twisting expanse, a crippling pain shot through her system. It felt as though her entire body was being pulled apart from countless different directions. She let loose a startled cry as her fighting took on a more frantic edge. The pain continued to grow until her limbs threatened to tear themselves right out of their sockets.

"_Stop."_

The single word cut across her consciousness like a bolt of lightning, shocking her into stillness as her mind caught up with her actions.

"_Have you forgotten what we told you already?"_

She hadn't, but in the sudden rush of movement she'd acted without thinking. Had there actually been any warning about the turmoil, she might have been more prepared. Judging by Maximillian's voice, he didn't seem all that interested in listening to her excuse, no matter how reasonable it might be.

"Where are you?" She called instead, squinting into the wall of black substance that surrounded her on all sides.

"_I am nearby. You won't see me, but I will be here throughout the process. Stay as relaxed as you can. The next stage is about to begin."_

Feeling a shift in the world around her, Madoka braced for what she expected to be a thoroughly unpleasant experience. It only took a moment to feel the disturbing presence of what Maximillian had planned for her.

Icy tendrils of invisible energy ventured into the confines of her mind. The sharp sensation brought a gasp from her as she did her best to remain calm. It was almost like cold water washing over the inside of her skull. Far from a good feeling, it was at least preferable to the outright pain she'd been expecting.

The darkness around her gave a sudden lurch, converging at some signal given by her unseen companion. Colors pierced through the shroud, spiraling into the empty landscape until the inky blackness had been replaced with a myriad of rainbow splotches. Piece by piece, the chaotic mosaic began to sharpen and define its individual aspects, coming to resemble several humanoid objects, and finally arranging itself into a recognizable image.

"That's me!" Madoka exclaimed in surprise, watching as a picture she knew all too well was built in front of her. Before her eyes, she watched as her mother, father, little brother, and even another version of her appeared, going through the motions of a normal family breakfast. She felt herself grow slightly dizzy with nostalgia as she watched her copy laugh at the antics of her younger sibling.

"This is…"

"_Your memories."_

She nodded, not bothering to wonder if Maximillian could actually see her at that time. Her eyes never left the quaint little scene, drinking in the details of a life she'd almost forgotten she'd experienced. Ever since she'd first happened upon the creature Kyubey, little things like this had faded from her daily routine.

It wasn't a perfect replica. The edges were blurred and indistinct, as were several portions of the foreground. Though she could tell that her mimic was eating something, it was impossible to know exactly what it was. What's more, there was no sound to accompany the images. It was a silent affair, showing details that she assumed was all she could remember of that particular morning.

Maximillian was decidedly less taken in by the homely moment. She could sense more than see him note down all the individual details, but never did she feel like he took any real interest beyond a detached acknowledgement.

With a sort of mental pull from the Psyker, the images around them began to speed up as if her memories were nothing more than a video someone had set to fast forwards. The rest of the meal passed in a blur, as did her leaving for school. She could only just make out the rapid moving image of her friend Sayaka walking beside the pink beacon of her duplicate. Seeing her blue haired friend, even if it was only in a memory, sent a pang of grief through her heart.

As days, weeks, and months raced by at an increasingly blistering pace, she had the distinct feeling that Maximillian was searching for something in particular. The reaching waves of psychic energy were burrowing into her consciousness like a bloodhound on the hunt for a fleeing rabbit. As the world slowed down to a more manageable pace, she could instantly tell exactly what had caught his attention.

The scene coalesced into the very moment that had changed her life forever. She and Sayaka stood, confused and terrified, surrounded by Familiars of a Witch whose labyrinth they'd fallen into. They surely would have perished there, nothing more than food for the creature to consume and draw strength from had it not been for one thing.

Standing between them and the monsters, a small half smile fixed on her features, was Mami.

Maximillian focused on her with burning intensity. For a brief moment Madoka worried his gaze might bore a hole in her mind, but the concern passed as the picture began moving once again. Her elderly companion watched every movement with an eagle-keen gaze, taking in the fighting style, the way Mami pulled weapons from seemingly nowhere, the casual grace which belied her hard earned skill, right down to the number of stripes on her outfit.

When the fighting was finished, he continued to take close examination of Mami as she and the past-Madoka and Sayaka made their introductions. The images were enough to bring a brief bout of tears to sting the back of the pinkette's eyes. Maximillian took no notice of her reaction, or he simply didn't care enough to focus on it. His attention was devoted to watching as the presentation sped up once more.

Madoka watched the events play out just as they had the previous time. She could see the confrontation between Mami and Homura, the days she and Sayaka spent bonding with the blonde, and finally the stage that would be her final resting place. When the Witch she knew would take Mami's life made her appearance, everything ground to a screeching halt. The action was so sudden and unexpected it caused a terrible migraine to erupt inside her head.

"_Charlotte…"_

Madoka had grown so accustomed to Maximillian's rather emotionless observations of her past that hearing genuine shock in his voice was enough to send a thrill of unease through her system.

The man recovered quickly. Before long, the progress of the scene picked up back to its normal pace, and Mami was facing off in a battle she wouldn't win. Madoka could hardly stand to watch the seemingly one-sided confrontation as the gunslinger, quite literally, blasted the diminutive creature into oblivion.

Then the moment came.

Assuming her foe had been vanquished by her final attack, the elder Magical Girl allowed her guard to drop for a brief moment. It was all the Witch needed.

Shedding the doll-like image that had been her front, she struck out at Mami before the girl could hope to defend herself. For the second time, Madoka could only watch in horror as the demented serpent's jaws closed around her friend's throat.

For one who served Mami directly, Maximillian was surprisingly unbothered by watching her double perish. He took in every detail just as he had with all previous scenes, but didn't break his shell of clinical observation in the slightest. He showed no more concern over the brutal execution than one who was taking note of a passing landscape.

The confrontation came and went, ending just as it had before, with Homura stepping in to save Madoka and Sayaka from falling prey to the same fate of the blonde girl. Madoka's heart gave a sympathetic lurch upon seeing her past self weeping on the ground, receiving the cold warning from her recent savior.

The sights became a barely discernable mass of movement as the fighting ended. Maximillian accelerated through her memories at increasingly drastic rates, pausing only momentarily to take in certain details that stood out to him amongst the mass of information.

Sayaka's indoctrination into the ranks of the Magical Girls, and her distrust of Homura.

Kyoko's appearance, her violent tendencies clashing with the blue haired girl's idealized determination, leading to an immediate conflict between the two of them.

Madoka's attempt to stop her friend from taking on an opponent she couldn't defeat, and the subsequent revelation of just what their Soul Gems did.

The gulf that soon opened up between her and Sayaka.

Their falling out…

Sayaka's disappearance…

All coming to a head as it was revealed her dear friend had been crushed under the weight of her own despair, her Soul Gem turning to a Grief Seed as she died, ushering in a newly born Witch in her place.

Kyoko's attempt to save her, resulting in her own end as she and the Witch perished in her final attack.

Then came the truth. The time Madoka finally came to understand the terrible nature of the world around her. The Incubators. The time lines. Homura's ceaseless, dogged, determination to rewrite history.

And Walpurgisnacht.

All the while, the girl watched her history come to life in front of her once more. With each new memory appearing, she felt a pressure starting to build in her chest. It was small at first, all but unnoticeable. Even when it grew to the point where it couldn't be ignored, she assumed it was merely the pain of seeing those she cared about in their final moments once again, being totally helpless to save them from their fates.

That changed as the weight became so intense she could hardly breathe.

For a moment, fear overrode the desire to watch the unfolding battle. She opened her mouth to cry out for help, but all that came out was a strangled gasp. The fear became panic as she found herself unable to refill her lungs. She fought to gain Maximillian's attention, to do anything that might make him realize something was wrong, but his attention was firmly fixed on the grand Witch as she decimated the surrounding city.

The pressure continued to grow, crushing her from the inside as she watched her former self rushing up the stairwell towards the rooftop. She felt her head grow light as Kyubey appeared, making his offer known. Her vision was starting to fade as her body suffered from its oxygen deprivation. Even as she clamped one hand over her chest in a futile attempt to stave off the mountainous weight growing inside, she could still make out the picture of her pact being made with the albino creature.

She saw herself make the wish…

She saw him lean forwards, his for wreathed in the strange alien energy that allowed him to grant her desire…

She saw as he made contact with her…

And the world shattered.

The moment her wish was granted, the pressure that had been building up in her chest exploded outwards with the force of a dying star. The images of her past were wiped away in an in the blink of an eye, vanishing amidst the fiery outburst of power. Maximillian only had time for a single exclamation of shock before his presence was forcibly ejected from her mind.

She was back in the empty void. The same place that had brought her to this grim and desolate place. This time however, she was motionless. Instead of being hurtled through the expanse of nothingness, she could instead feel something coming straight towards her. There was no time to be afraid. No time to register that anything moving _that_ quickly would hit with enough force to blast her apart. One moment she was seeing the brilliant streak of color trailing behind the approaching missile, and the next she felt herself being slammed back into her own body.

The courtyard erupted in a blinding flash as Mami, Maximillian, and the furniture were thrown back by the shockwave. At the center of the newly formed sunburst, Madoka could only stand awestruck as her form was wreathed in tendrils of vibrant light. It was only when the radiance faded to a more manageable degree that she was able to really understand what had just happened.

Madoka Kaname, the unfortunate young girl, had vanished. In her place stood Madoka Kaname, the Puella Magi.

It was with a disbelieving sense of wonder that she took in the state of her appearance. Her normal clothes had been replaced by a frilly, and rather superfluous, attire not unlike the drawings she'd sketched in her notebook when fantasizing about just such a transformation. Alternating between pink and white colorings, the fabric was as beautiful as it was ridiculous.

In her left hand, a gleaming bow was held. Though she'd never held a weapon in her life, the weight of the tool felt wonderfully familiar. As though it was an extension of her own being rather than a piece of wood or metal.

In her right, cradled in her palm atop the mark burned into her skin, was the pink gem which she knew encapsulated everything that she was. Somehow, some way, her transformation had only just completed.

Raising her eyes to survey her surroundings, Madoka was greeted by the sight of both the Inquisitor and her Psyker staring at her in undisguised awe. Mami's mouth hung partially open as her features expressed the total shock which had taken a hold of her body.

A shaky smile formed across Madoka's face as she attempted to reassure the older girl. Of course this version of her wouldn't recognize what was going on. She didn't know anything about Magical Girls beyond what she'd been told during their earlier conversation. What she actually _believed_ about them was another matter entirely.

Before she could speak, a dagger of ice plunged into her consciousness, ripping her awareness away from the congregation. In a blinding instant she was ripped back into the dark and terrible void she'd passed through along her journey to this world. The formerly sinister and vicious place was a frantic maelstrom of chaotic activity. Though her physical senses couldn't perceive what was happening, her very soul quailed before the onslaught of sheer malevolent violence that poured from every corner of the place.

Throughout the insanity, throughout the total depraved madness, something in the heart of it all turned to face her. A terrifying figure which stood as a living tribute to the total dementia of its surroundings. It radiated with crazed emotion, infecting everything around it and drawing the raw feeling back into itself in an endless cycle of corruption and consumption.

And it was looking directly at her.

As quickly as the gruesome vision had come on, it vanished, hurtling Madoka back into her body and shattering the stillness of her transformation.

Nerveless legs buckled beneath her torso, toppling her over to one side. The jarring transition of being thrown to and fro among the different planes of existence was too much for her to handle. The darkness rose to claim the girl long before her limp form hit the ground.

For the second time since her arrival Madoka fell into the waiting clutches of her subconscious, vague impressions of horrific mirth chasing her through the dreamscape.


	5. Why so serious?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warhammer 40k or Puella Magi Madoka Magica**

* * *

><p>Kennith Madson had often thought himself a clever man. He had to be. After all, how many others could boast that they'd managed to build a criminal organization up from nothing? How many could claim that they'd managed to commandeer multiple Imperial crafts, regularly raid supply convoys, and escape some of the most ruthless bounty hunters this side of the galaxy?<p>

He'd handpicked his crewmen for their skills, bloodthirsty nature, and anarchist tendencies. After years of constant pillaging, lining their pockets with the riches of the bloated corpse that was the Imperium, he'd started thinking that they were truly invincible.

How terribly wrong he'd been.

"P-Please… I don't know anything… Please…"

The pitiful moaning came from Kennith's second in command. An ogre of a man by the name of Brutus. The captain of the renegade force could hardly recognize this sorry waste as the same one who had brutally gunned down countless men and women when storming other ships. To see him reduced to such a state was enough to send a fresh wave of dread through Kennith's mind.

It had all happened so suddenly. His ship, the _Dereliction of Absolution_, had been drifting in the dark corners of space, countless miles away from the prying eyes of any Imperial forces which might be hunting them. He'd been taking the time to plan their next raid. After having met so much success against their human targets, he'd started letting his eyes wander to more exotic ones. Any victims which could satiate the crew's lust for valuables and weaponry.

But while they'd been planning, another predator of the void had been hunting them. One that appeared, quite literally, from nowhere.

One minute Kennith had been poring over charts and data slates to plot the course of their coming raid, and the next his coms were exploding with chatter. All across his ship emergency sirens flared to life and hails for aid were sent out. In the chaos and confusion that followed, the human pirates learned just how small their part in this galaxy was.

A slaughter. A bloodbath. A massacre. None of those words seemed to convey just how one sided the fighting had been. Disorganized and off guard, they never had a chance. The battle was over before the attackers fired their first shot. Though the renegades did everything they could to halt the advance, blocking off hallways, barricading doors, and even venting the lower sections of the ship out into space, their slayers moved through everything with the graceful skill of peerless killers.

The situation Kennith found himself in now was testament to just how badly they'd been struck down.

Brutus had the misfortune of holding the attention of their unwanted guests. All around him, the invaders held the few surviving crew members captive aboard their own bridge. The giant himself was strung up in the center of the room, his hands tied behind his back and his ankles impaled by a hanging hook which had been bolted to the roof for the sole purpose of suspending him there. Blood trickled out of the wounds, running down his body, stripped bare but for a single pair of undergarments, and adding its content to the slowly growing pool on the floor below him.

All three hundred and fifty pounds of the man's frame were shaking with poorly concealed terror as the leader of their foes circled his inverted form with slow, almost casual, movements.

"You don't… know… anything…" The figure droned, absently tracing a gloved finger across his belly, causing him to flinch as the touch moved across a freshly made shrapnel injury. "Well, I can hardly dispute that point, now can I?"

Kennith was situated at the far left of the room with a sleek blade hanging just beside his neck. The being that held it stood just behind him, effectively making escape an impossible dream. These creatures had already demonstrated their incredible speed and reflexes.

Risking a small glance upwards, the rogue captain caught a glimpse of the man interrogating his second in command.

If one of his crew had told him a week ago that the _Dereliction_ would come under attack, he'd have sent them back to their bunk to sleep off whatever blasted alcohol was taking hold of their system. If they'd told him they'd come under attack by _clowns_ of all things, he'd have had them shot as they were clearly too stupid to live.

It was ludicrous. Idiocy. And yet, it had happened.

The man questioning Brutus was tall. Exceedingly so. Kennith had been six and a half feet the last time he'd checked, and this figure stood a full head above him. What's more, he was dressed in incredibly unfitting attire.

The fabric of his bodysuit consisted of garishly bright red, blue, yellow, and orange checkerboard patterns arranged in alternating color combinations. His hands and feet were wreathed in some kind of rubbery, almost metallic looking, substance. Bells were fixed at his heels, creating an impossible tinkling melody that tugged at the sanity of any within earshot with each step he took. The hood covering the back of his head pulled out all the stops, assaulting the eyes of all who looked upon it with a menagerie of colors so vibrant and so intense that no normal pigment could have created them.

The one thing, the _only _thing, that the figure possessed which inspired more than frustrated annoyance, was his mask.

One half was a blanket of white, serene and undisturbed but for a single black lens over the eye socket. The other half was viciously carved into a grinning skull, every anatomical detail conveyed with painstaking precision. The effect was nothing short of horrifying.

"Still, if you know nothing, then at least you could have the decency of pointing me towards someone who does." The man concluded, bringing his hands together in an overly exuberant clap. "So, how about you point out the smart one of the group? Come on now, I know you have at least a single member like that. No self-respecting pirate crew can go without a brain among them, now can they?"

For a single, breathless, moment, Kennith was utterly terrified that his second was about to rat him out to the attackers. Thankfully for his sake, luck was on his side.

"I don't know… I don't know… I don't know…"

The bulky man was actually crying as he repeated those three words over and over. His body wasn't the only thing that had been damaged in the attack. Kennith let out a silent sigh of relief that he was too traumatized to realize he could sell out his crewmates to save himself.

His questioner was less than impressed. His head shook back and forth in a sad, almost pitying, motion. Drawing level with the hanging prisoner's front, he cupped the crown of his head in an outstretched palm and forced Brutus to meet his eyes.

"I have to say…" The jester began, his words holding a dangerous edge. "…that makes me… _very_…"

His hand tightened, pulling down on the man's head and eliciting a scream of agony as his ankle wounds opened up again.

"…unhappy…"

He held the position for several seconds, letting Brutus's wails fill the room as a fresh stream of blood coursed down his hanging body. When he grew tired of the gesture, he released the tortured man, allowing his pained cries to lessen into mere whimpers.

"I see that this course of action is getting us nowhere." The figure said, speaking either to himself or to his gathered followers. "Perhaps it is time I tried out some skills taken from my last venture to the Dark City."

At a silent signal, one of the other assailants stepped forwards, presenting him with a shimmering sword that looked expensive enough to equip an entire guard regiment with high-end wargear. The man accepted the weapon with a fluid gesture, spinning to grab it hilt first and flowing through the motion until its edge rested lightly against Brutus's cheek.

"Last chance~" He warned, his tone taking on a lyrical quality that directly contradicted the seriousness of the situation.

Brutus's mouth opened and closed automatically, his eyes wide with wordless dread as his body locked up under the stress. They held that position for a brief span before the decorated figure exploded into motion.

Faster than Kennith's gaze could follow, the sword swung up in a brutal arc, striking not at the man's face, but across his stomach. In the blink of an eye, the streaking edge twirled around again and swept across his gut's width as well.

The howl of anguish that filled the air was answered only with the sudden intake of breath as the prisoner crew watched the man's middle bulge outwards.

The two cuts formed the shape of a cross, their meeting point just above his navel. The blade had sliced through skin and muscle alike, leaving only a thin membrane intact inside of him. A single light barrier that was, at that very moment, keeping his entrails from spilling out on the floor.

Brutus's screaming gave way to gagged sputters as blood from his new injuries fell across his front, flowing down across his face and getting in his open mouth. The clown took no notice of his plight, raising the blade once more so that its tip hovered a fraction of an inch away from the center of the wound.

"I think you all know what's going to happen next, don't you?" He asked, turning his attention to the assorted crew of the _Dereliction_. "If any of you want to spare your companion from a messy fate, you should speak up now."

Nobody said a word. There was no code of honor amongst the crew. At the end of the day, each one of them were far more concerned with looking out for themselves than those around them.

When no answer came, he merely shrugged as if it were of no consequence.

"Too bad for you then." He remarked. With a single light tap, the wickedly sharp edge of the sword punctured the remaining tissue barrier. The hole itself was tiny, no more than a pinprick, but it was just enough to upset the balance. A sickening, squelching, ripping noise echoed across the bridge, mingling with Brutus's own pitiful screams. In a vile rush of blood and viscera, his stomach opened up and spilled its contents for everyone to see. The mass of intestines and organs fell past his face, reaching halfway to the floor before getting caught in place.

With two more swings of his sword, the masked man severed the connections keeping the pieces attached, causing them to fall to the floor with a gut-wrenching splat. With a flick of his wrist, the man cast off the little bits of gore clinging to his weapon and turned to the congregation while Brutus twitched and spasmed on the hook.

"Now do you see how this is going to work?" He asked cheerfully, making momentary eye contact with each of the crew members, most of whom were trying to fight back the bile rising in their throats. "_I'm_ going to ask the questions, and _you're _going to spill your guts. Either figuratively…"

He paused, taking a second to gesture towards the mess below his dying victim.

"Or literally."

A deathly hush spread over the imprisoned raiders. None of them were fool enough to think that any plea for salvation would improve their situation. They were at the mercy of these attackers, and there was nothing they could do but hope they gave the right answers.

"Now then, get that lout down from there and string up the next one." The figure ordered, his finger lazily moving back and forth as he picked out the unfortunate individual who would follow Brutus. "How about you there? One eye? You look like you might know some dirty little secrets."

The individual in question, a lanky runt missing most of the right side of his face by the name of Jezerra, just about jumped out of his skin as two of the brightly dressed boarders took a hold of him.

"W-Wait! Y-You don't want me!" He stammered, struggling uselessly against his captors while they dragged him forwards. "I don't know anything, yeah? You don't want to waste time with me!"

Though his face was hidden behind the sinister mask, something in the lead jester posture conveyed that he was rolling his eyes.

"Might want to rephrase that statement." He advised, nudging the mess on the floor with the toe of his boot. "It didn't work so well for the last one who tried it."

Jezerra's pleas took on a frantic edge as the hook that had been holding Brutus up was brought lower.

"No! No! Listen, yeah? I-I don't know nothing! It's the captain you want, yeah? He knows! I swear, if anyone knows, it's him, yeah?"

Kennith would have torn out the sniveling rat's throat then and there would it not have immediately singled him out in front of the freaks that had taken over his ship. It had been only through incredible luck and self-control that he'd managed to keep his identity hidden. Had they known he was in charge of the _Dereliction_, he'd likely have been the first one on those hooks.

"Now we're getting somewhere." The figure said happily, giving Jezerra a rather heavy pat on the back. "Yes, I think your captain would do quite nicely. Be a good lad and point him out to me, would you? These old eyes of mine aren't what they used to be."

For a brief second, Kennith held tight to the hope that his subordinate would hand over someone else in his place, sparing him from the scrutiny that would undoubtedly end in his death. It was a distant chance, and one that was almost immediately squashed when Jezerra's finger was instantly leveled in his direction.

"E's right there! Captain Kenneth, yeah? E's the one you want!"

The terrible crushing weight of dread battled with the burning desire to pick up the nearest firearm, and fill his snitching shipmate full of holes. He knew it was over even before two pairs of hands latched onto his arms and pulled him to his feet. Even so, his pride refused to let him beg. He allowed himself to be dragged forwards in silence, glaring bloody murder at Jezerra the whole time. If the two of them survived this, he was going to see that bleeding turncoat force-fed into a turbine.

His short march came to an end as he drew level with the enemy leader. It was an uncomfortable and humiliating experience to have to crane his neck upwards just to meet the man's gaze, but he bore it with all the dignity the defeated captain of a rabble crew could hope to claim.

"So. Captain Kennith is it?" The jester asked, holding out a hand which the former pirate was in no position to shake. "That wasn't very nice of you, sitting all by your lonesome like that while your crew were made to suffer in your place. What does that say about you personally?"

His tone was toying, that of a cat who'd caught a crippled mouse and was batting it around while debating where to take the first bite. Despite his ego, Kennith's nerve broke the moment he started speaking.

"Listen." He said, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Whatever you're looking for… I can get it for you. Getting things is what I do. Y-You don't need to do this…"

The tall man's hand grabbed his chin roughly, forcing his face up even higher and causing him to gulp involuntarily. It proved to be a mistake, as the angle of his throat made the action surprisingly painful.

"That's what I like to hear." He purred, his voice becoming low and dangerous. "It's so much easier when people cooperate. Well captain Kennith, I do have something in need of finding. A human girl to be precise."

The imprisoned raider's heart leapt at the comment. Human trafficking wasn't a specialty of his, but if it save him from being flayed alive he'd take it up in a heartbeat. Couldn't be that much tougher than transporting stolen goods. Just had to remember to feed them and all.

"Sure! Sure! I can do that for you." He assured, nodding rapidly. "I can get you as many girls as you like. Just tell me what you're looking for and I can have 'em rounded up before you know it!"

"Oh, no, no, no. You misunderstand." His captor replied, shaking his head sadly. "You see, I'm looking for _one_ girl in particular. Some pink haired little wonder that appeared right in the middle of the Seer Council of Biel-Tan during a war meeting. If you could find _that_ girl, then maybe we would have something to talk about."

All hope dropped from Kennith's heart like a chunk of ice falling into a bottomless void. He hadn't the slightest idea what a 'Seer Council' or a 'Biel-Tan' was, but it had the distinct feeling of importance that reminded him of how insignificant his little operation really was. This was Inquisition level shit. He was out of his league.

Either from his silence or the expression on his face, the man questioning him seemed to get that he couldn't deliver.

"That's disappointing. That really is." He lamented, acting as though he were suffering just as much as his prisoner. "And here I had such high hopes for our relationship. Still, perhaps we could remedy this situation. How difficult would it be to pilot your craft?"

Just like that, Kennith's hopes were restored. These guys didn't look like the tech-savvy kind. They hardly even looked human. Maybe they weren't. At this point he really didn't care. If they were xenos, then they'd need a human to operate human machinery. The question of how they got here in the first place didn't even cross his mind.

"Not very. It's not like one of those massive ships." He began. He could have lied, to say it would require all his surviving crew members at the bare minimum, but the risk of being found out was too high. Besides, any of them would sell him out just the same. They could rot in the Warp for all he cared. "I can probably do it by myself if I really have to, or with a little help from your boys. Just tell me where you need to go and I'll see that you get there right quick."

The man's free hand clapped down on his shoulder, giving him a light shake.

"That's very generous of you." He remarked, something in his voice setting off alarms in Kennith's head. "But I think we should be able to manage. After all, human technology isn't all that complicated."

A blur of movement was all the warning that the unfortunate raider got before the wickedly sharp sword parted his head from his shoulders. Both of the attackers who'd been holding him in place as well as their leader deftly stepped back to avoid the spray of blood as his decapitated corpse toppled to the ground. As one, the remaining imprisoned crew members recoiled at the sudden, and seemingly pointless, killing.

"And to think he was going to simply abandon the lot of you." The jester commented, examining the edge of his freshly bloodied blade. "Quite headstrong that one. He'd never get ahead in life if he was so willing to cast off his companions. Still, I think he's been cut down to size. Maybe now he'll learn to stop and think before he gets too far ahead of himself."

A short pause followed his words, prompting him to turn his eyes to the captured humans.

"That was funny." He remarked dryly. "Laugh."

An uncertain ripple of laughter wove its way through the crowd, none daring to disobey after having their leader dispatched so casually. Though it was without heart, and blatantly forced, their attempts seemed to please him.

"Why thank you." He said, taking a deep bow. "You've been a wonderful audience. I do hope we can do this again someday. I'm afraid we're too pressed for time to have an encore here tonight, so I'll bid you adieu."

One of the xenos, shorter than the lead performer, but broader of form, stepped forwards. When he spoke, it was not in the recognizable dialect of Low Gothic, but rather in the Eldar speech that was native to their kind.

"_I take it we're finished with these primitives Troupe Master?" _He questioned, his unfamiliar words causing no small amount of unease in the prisoners. _"How shall we dispose of them?"_

The Athair pondered the question for a short period, his finger tapping against the chin of his mask.

"_Remind me Tseranis." _He said. _"Are we in orbit above a planet right now?"_

If the other Harlequin was surprised by the question, he didn't show it.

"_Yes. An unmarked rocky planet that these pirates have been using to hide from the eyes of their victims."_

Though it was impossible for the expression on his mask to change, all watching would have sworn that the disturbing grin of the half-skull grew wider.

"_Good. Good. Have them dropped off there."_

The Trouper made no move to comply yet, knowing full well that his superior was merely pausing for dramatic effect.

"_From low orbit of course. Without the aid of a landing craft. I do love a good show."_

With practiced ease, the Harlequins gathered up their soon-to-be victims and herded them towards the door. Some of the raiders tried to put up a fight, knowing that whatever had just been discussed would bode ill for them, but they were quickly subdued and made to follow along. The Troupe Master watched them go with a moderate interest until the last of them had been ushered out the door and off the bridge.

"Something troubling you my dear?" He asked, turning to face the one other person who'd remained behind. Another of his soldiers, the same young woman who'd offered him her sword during the interrogation.

"Do you think we'll be able to find her in time? This human girl?" Though her voice was carefully measured with a light apathy, she wasn't able to entirely hide the touch of unease that she was feeling. The Athair regarded her with a tilt of his head before giving a chuckle.

"There's no need to worry." He assured. "Were we racing the Pathfinders of Alaitoc, or perhaps the Seers of Ulthwe, there may be cause for concern. As it is, all we have to deal with is Biel-Tan. Those fops wouldn't be able to find her given a thousand centuries and as many hints as they could ask for. They're too busy looking for an assassin. Someone they're convinced was sent to kill them and cripple their operations. They fail to realize the nature of the one they're after, and so blind themselves to what other, more careful, trackers might see."

His companion didn't look entirely convinced. He couldn't blame her really. Biel-Tan was the single largest military Craftworld after all. Their tenacity and dedication were legendary, but he knew that they came with their own limitations.

"I trust your judgment Troupe Master." She said at last, giving him a half-bow. "I'm just rather anxious. I hadn't expected to be taking part in something this monumental so soon after becoming part of the Laughing God's fold."

Another chuckle, this time of genuine amusement, echoed from behind his mask.

"I'm sure." He remarked. "Now, if that's all I think it best that you go to rejoin your fellow performers. You've got an important part to prepare for, and I need to reacquaint myself with the workings of human machinery so that we can get underway."

She was halfway to the exit before he remembered something that had overlooked.

"Oh, and Sayaka?" He called, causing her to turn back towards him. "My thanks for your sword."

He tossed the elegant weapon across to her, nodding with approval as she caught it and saluted with a continuous fluid movement. Returning her weapon to its sheath, the young Harlequin departed, leaving him to ponder over the ships workings alone.

* * *

><p>Gaining the full attention of an Inquisitor was no small feat. It took an incredible effort to make oneself not only known, but undeniable to a member of the Ordos. Not that many people were foolish enough to make such an attempt. Doing so more often than not resulted in a sudden, and quite painful, execution.<p>

Apparently nobody had informed Madoka Kaname of this fact.

After her outburst of energy and subsequent collapse, the girl had been rushed back to the infirmary that had been holding her just that morning. The Medica personnel gave her a thorough examination before concluding that her current condition had been caused by a sudden massive spike in stress, overloading her recently recovered system and giving her the mental equivalent of a short circuit. While no doubt unpleasant to experience, she was in no immediate danger of dying from the shock.

After making absolutely certain that she'd been properly situated and cared for, the staff had left her to rest and eventually wake on her own. It would have been an almost exact reenactment of her first arrival had it not been for one very important fact.

She was no longer alone in the room.

Mami Tomoe and her personal bodyguard were both situated a short distance away from the young girl's unconscious form, the latter of the two looking as though he were suffering from a terrible headache. The two sat, still as statues, watching over Madoka with a sort of impatient interest. The only thing that disturbed the otherwise picturesque scene was the soft, steady, rhythm of her breathing.

The silent vigil was broken when Maximillian shifted in his chair, casting a questioning glance to the blonde girl at his side.

"If I might be so bold, Lady Inquisitor." He ventured, carefully gauging her expression for any warning that he might be overstepping his bounds. "What are your plans for this child once she wakes up?"

No answer came at first. Mami's gaze was firmly locked on the troubled body lying atop the standard issue sleeping arrangement. Her face betrayed none of what was going on inside her mind, but the old man had known her for long enough to read some of what she typically tried to hide. He wasn't sure if what he saw should scare him or not.

"It was true." She said at last, her voice low and serious. "The story she told me. How ridiculous it sounded. It was true, wasn't it?"

They'd already gone over this subject, but in all honesty Maximillian himself wasn't fully convinced by what he'd seen. Even after having picked through her memories, everything he knew told him that the information she'd possessed was an impossibility.

"It is true that she believes it." He offered, keeping to the neutral rode so as not to betray his own doubts. "Her memories were very… vivid. They were not however, beyond the possibility of being fabrications. I think it is distinctly possible that her past is merely the product of tampering hands working to twist her thoughts. The entire scenario is too far outside normalcy to be confirmed or denied, but-"

"She knew about Charlotte."

It wasn't the suddenness of her declaration that made him stop in his tracks, but the firmness with which she spoke. He couldn't deny that. He himself had been shocked that the creature's existence had been imprinted on her mind. All information regarding the humanoid entity were carefully guarded secrets. The only ones who knew about her were Inquisitor Tomoe, Maximillian, and Inquisitor Octavian. None of whom would ever willingly disclose that information to any but their closest confidants.

"Perhaps she did." He conceded, nodding more for his benefit than anything. "But that still doesn't rule out the possibility of interference. The daemon has many forms…"

"And I must know them all." She finished, glancing up at him for the first time since they'd sat down. "You don't need to lecture me. I'm well aware of what the Great Enemy is capable of, and I have no intention of falling prey to their games."

She looked back down to Madoka, biting her lower lip as a frown of uncertainty crossed her face.

"But that light… You can't tell me you didn't feel that…"

She had him there. He had no hope of pretending he hadn't felt the energy that had exploded out of the seemingly petite girl during her transformation. It had cast him right out of her mind as though he were nothing more than a gnat in the face of a hurricane. His psychic sensitivity had ensured that he'd been all but consumed by it for the brief time it had washed over him.

It hadn't been daemonic in origin. Of that he was certain. The only displays he'd seen in the past that came close were the miracles performed by the Sisters of Battle, and even those didn't match entirely. It certainly wouldn't have accounted for her drastic change in wardrobe, which had reverted back to her pedestrian clothing as soon as she'd lost consciousness.

Speaking of which…

"What do you plan to do with that?" He asked, nodding towards the bedside table. The one facet that had remained after Madoka's show sat lightly atop the piece of furniture, twinkling in the poorly illuminated room as though giving off a light all on its own.

Mami regarded the gem with a hesitant interest. It was cut impossibly smooth and slotted into an ornate golden casing which revealed its pink coloring on four sides. The power it contained was undeniable, but its origins were a mystery. The only thing Maximillian could think of to compare it to were the prized possessions of a particularly troublesome xeno species. Even so, he knew from experience that, to a man, the aliens would sooner slit their own throats than part with the precious jewels.

Either she'd somehow managed to acquire one and hide it from outside scrutiny until now, or her wild stories held more truth than he wanted to believe.

"I'll wait until she wakes up to decide how to deal with that." Mami said at last. "If her descriptions of these 'Soul Gems' was accurate, removing it now might just kill her, or at least render her body comatose. In the meantime, I want you to go and gather as many texts as you can find lying around this facility."

The Psyker blinked, certain he'd misheard.

"Texts?" He repeated incredulously. "What use could you have for texts at a time like this? I highly doubt anything in Minerva Hall would be helpful in finding out the true nature of this situation."

"True. Very true." She agreed. "But that isn't what I need them for. I want you to find historical documents. Data Slates. Accounts of heroes, campaigns, and battles. And, if you can find any, books giving details on different xenos species and the dangers they pose. Stories meant for young children aren't ideal, but those would do if they're all that are available."

Maximillian had the distinct feeling that he wasn't going to like where this was going.

"What exactly do you want these assorted pieces of information for?" He asked. "I might be better able to locate the proper material if I knew its purpose."

The young Inquisitor faced him once again with her smile restored to its normal place. She'd made a decision, and he could only silently pray it was a wise one.

"Isn't it obvious?" She asked, a slightly playful tone entering her voice. "Miss Kaname here has proven that she knows very little about the way the world works."

"If she's going to stay here, we're going to need to educate her."


	6. Calm before the storm

**Disclaimer: I don't own Puella Magi Madoka Magica or Warhammer 40k**

* * *

><p>She was running.<p>

Legs burning, heart racing, her feet pounded against the cold metallic floor whilst her breaths tore themselves from her chest in ragged gasps. It was behind her. She knew that for certain. So close she could almost feel its wicked grin as its mocking laughter echoed through her skull.

She was running, but she knew she had no hope of escape.

Every step was a new torment. Every push forward tore her downwards with the crushing weight of exhaustion. She didn't know how long she'd been running, or how far she'd gone. All she knew was that it wasn't enough. Her pursuer was closing in and there was nothing she could do to get away.

…_Madoka…_

A voice flittered across her mind, causing her eyes to shoot open. Someone was here. In this dark expanse, stretching out to endless depths, she wasn't alone. Her run accelerated into a flat out sprint while the never-ending peals of raucous joviality slammed against her sanity like waves breaking across a crumbling wall.

…_Madoka…_

There it was again. A voice so familiar that it made her head hurt. In her panic-fueled flight she couldn't put a face to the words, but she knew it was a friend. Someone safe. Someone who could save her from the monster looming over her shoulder.

…_Madoka…?_

She blocked out the deafening noise that barraged her ears. She blocked out the madness and terror that exuded from the thing hunting her. She blocked out all of her other senses, focusing on the voice, and the voice alone. It was her beacon in the dark. Her guiding light. If she could only reach…

…_Madoka…?_

There! In the distance she could just make out the silhouette of a person against the inky darkness of the nightmare world. She put one last burst of strength into her charge, drawing away from the monster ever so slightly. She had to reach the figure. In that moment, nothing else mattered.

"Homura!"

The name leapt from her mouth unbidden, bringing with it a cascade of images and memories that had been pushed aside by her terrified thoughts. Elation blossomed in her heart as hope surged through her system. The raven-haired Magical Girl had her back to Madoka, but she didn't care. This was Homura, one of her cherished companions. She'd be able to keep the darkness at bay.

"Homura!" She called again, driving forwards the last few yards by sheer willpower alone. As soon as she came close to the other girl, it was like a switch had been flipped. The presence behind her disappeared. The wear and fatigue that had been crippling her vanished.

"I'm so glad I found you!" Madoka cried, panting for breath as her system recovered from the suffocating presence. "Everything in this place is so wrong. After I made my wish… I don't know what's happened."

The Time-Magi didn't move. Her body was as still and stationary as a painting in the darkness. As the younger girl noticed her lack of animation, a sudden edge of wariness was born.

"Homura…?" She ventured, taking a single cautious step closer. "Are you all right?"

No answer came. No movement shifted her impassive form. She was a statue in all but name.

"Homura… please say something… It's me…"

"Madoka…"

The sound of her words caused the pinkette to gasp. There was something off about her friend's voice, but she was too overjoyed at being recognized to care. If she'd arrived here only to have a repeat of what had happened with Mami she didn't know what she'd have done.

"Yes! That's right, it's me!" She confirmed, nodding even though the other girl couldn't see her.

"Homura, I'm so glad you-"

The rest of her sentence was cut short as her friend turned to face her. Instantly, all the joy at finding her came crashing down around her like a castle of glass. Her words died while a scream of pure horror got caught halfway up her throat.

"…_Madoka…"_ The name was spoken with an audible purr, not unlike a hunting cat which had cornered its favored prey. _"There you are…"_

"No…"

She couldn't get out more than a single word as she unconsciously backed away from the sickening parody of her friend. Shaking her head, she begged and pleaded for the sight in front of her to be false. No saving force answered her pleas for salvation.

Mami had been different, but Homura was _changed_. Her expression was one of cold satisfaction. An image she'd never worn even once in all of Madoka's memories. Decorating the skin around her right eye, a twisting blue mark had been tattooed into her flesh. The blood vessels beneath pulsed with each beat of her heart, sending forth miniature strobes of unnatural anti-light. Simply gazing upon it was enough to twist the edges of her sanity into a hazy mess.

For all the transgressions against her friend's image, there was one singular feature which stood out like no other. Homura's right hand, formerly shrouded in the dark, was not a hand at all.

All five fingers curled inwards, ending in razor sharp claws with black feathers adorning her knuckles. The limb had been replaced by a raven's talons.

Unable to move or even tear her eyes away from the vile sight, Madoka stood helpless while the copy drew close to her.

"_Finally…"_

Though Homura's voice was indescribably soft, she strangely had no trouble making out what was being said.

"_Finally…_"

She repeated herself, drawing closer to the paralyzed girl. Her expression betrayed no awareness of the trauma her mere presence was inflicting. In a slow, calculated movement, her unnatural appendage came to rest on Madoka's shoulder, causing the girl to tremble while she applied force just shy of what was necessary to draw blood.

The half-grin on her face grew incrementally as she leaned forwards, stopping next to the girl's ear as though she meant to whisper some dark secret.

"…_You've arrived__…"_

* * *

><p>The covers were thrown from Madoka's form as she flew bolt upright in bed, gasping for breath while her pulse slammed a relentless melody across her eardrums. Revulsion roiled in her gut as she shivered in the cold sweat that had broken out across her skin. The details of her nightmare had already faded into the back of her subconscious. Their meaning, gone. Their memory, vanished. All she was left with was the distant impression of something truly terrible.<p>

When at last her waking terror had abated to a more manageable degree, the girl let out a shuddering sigh and collapsed back into the mattress beneath her. Her eyes closed only to open again moments later when she'd caught her breath, gifting her with the sight of the bleak roof of the infirmary.

Still addled from sleep, her mind took a second to process her surroundings. The last she'd remembered, she was in the courtyard being interrogated. How had…

Her transformation.

For the second time in as many minutes, her form shot up in a rigid posture, focused entirely on ascertaining the whereabouts of one individual object. A single swift examination of her room was enough to find it.

Innocent as a newborn child, her Soul Gem gleamed in the early morning light on her bedside table. Its inscrutable pink depths swirled along in a gentle, almost leisurely, pace against the flawless surface of the stone.

With hesitant hands, Madoka gingerly picked up the gem and cradled in in her palms. She gazed down at the precious item with a small measure of awe.

That wasn't right, was it? She wasn't looking at it anymore. She _was_ the gem. She was just making her body look down at it… which happened to be her… and her body was just a puppet… or something like that. Thinking about it too much made her recently awakened head hurt. Right now she wasn't in the mood for philosophical ponderings.

A light breath escaping from her chest, she held the jewel close to her heart and merely took a moment to bask in its pleasant aura. She didn't feel any different from before, or at the very least she didn't notice any change, but she knew that everything about her was irreversibly altered.

A slight tinge of doubt crept into her thoughts as she remembered the manner in which her ascension had taken place. It hadn't been the instantaneous shift into a Magical Girl the way it had been for her friends. Perhaps it was something to do with the way she'd been thrown to another world, or perhaps her so called 'unlimited potential' was to blame, but the rules had been bent ever so slightly. And if they could be shifted, that meant that more things could have changed as well.

For the first time in a very long while, she actually wished Kyubey was around. Though he might have been a deceitful little creature who saw humankind as nothing more than a power source, having him explain things had been immeasurably helpful.

Resigning herself to living in some measure of ignorance, Madoka slumped into the welcoming embrace of the bed once more. The light outside might mean that she'd have to get up soon, but her painful dreams had kept her from getting any real rest. She'd welcome even five or ten more minutes of sleep so long as it was without some new form of night terror to plague her.

As she rolled on her side, gemstone still in hand, a foreign object caught her eye just as she was getting comfortable. Stacked neatly on the table, right next to where her Soul Gem had been, was an assortment of books and texts. There were even some decidedly unusual looking tablets that managed to appear both highly advanced and archaic at the same time. Confused and curious as to what those could be doing here, Madoka propped herself up on one elbow and picked up the note that had been left on top of the pile.

_-Miss Kaname._

_I trust this finds you well. The doctors assure me that your condition is stable and my duties prevent me from staying, so I'll have to leave this rather than be here in person when you wake. _

_Your display in the courtyard was quite spectacular. I'm not above admitting that you took me by surprise with it. While I'm still debating just how to deal with you, it has been decided that you will be cared for, at least for the moment. _

_Since you have shown yourself to be fairly ignorant of your surroundings, I've arranged for this assortment of information to be gathered. If you wish to last here, you'll need to learn as much as possible as quickly as you can. It is imperative that you understand your place here as lack of knowledge about the Imperial Creed could make keeping you safe difficult. _

_Take in as much information as you can. I'll be coming back to meet with you this afternoon to check on your condition and see how much progress you've made. You are quite the oddity miss Kaname, and I look forwards to conversing with you further._

_Inquisitor Tomoe, Ordo Malleus_

_Oh, and I've ensured that your caretakers know that you need to be fed. Can't have you starving in the meantime, now can I?_

For a long while, Madoka simply stared uncomprehending at the piece of paper held between her fingers. She read its flowery speech, reread it, and reread it again until she could recite the entire missive by heart if she wanted to. All the while, its meaning slowly sank in.

Carefully placing the paper down on her bedside table, she sat back on the mattress with a controlled neutral expression. Taking a deep breath, she held it and raised her hands up to her face. Had someone been listening in, they might have heard a low moan of disbelief echo through the room.

Here she was, surrounded by unfamiliar people in a world that almost felt devoid of all joy, only a distantly recognizable copy of her old mentor guiding her, with no knowledge of how to fix things or get home.

And they were making her do homework.

* * *

><p>"Two dozen convicted heretics, eighteen men and six women, executed in Stratholmis. The dregs of the cult found there are still putting up some measure of resistance, harassing troops stationed in the city in hit and run tactics, the shameful cowards. Fifteen casualties taken from the Arbites in the past few days. No surprise really, given their laxity and…"<p>

Mami allowed Commissar Gilliam's reports to wash over her as the two of them walked side by side through Minerva Hall. The morale officer carried a data slate with him from which he was reciting all the statistics that she was only half paying attention to. Under normal circumstances she'd have listened closely to the numbers to ensure that no hidden meaning could be found behind them, but her mind was more occupied with another matter.

"_You really think so?" _

_A hesitant smile. An answering confirmation. A sense of amusement at the presence of her junior. Companionship. The isolation had-_

With a shake of her head, the young Inquisitor drew herself out of the distraction. A quick glance to her left assured her that Gilliam hadn't even noticed that she'd been moving on autopilot for the past couple of minutes. He was too engrossed in being disappointed with the performance of the local soldiery to even look up from the numbers he was rifling through.

Satisfied that her attention wasn't all that necessary, Mami allowed herself to ease back into a contemplative expression.

It wasn't often that the little images came to her. Only three or four had appeared in her mind, but they each bore an unmistakable feeling of familiarity. Memories she didn't even remember having in the first place. Miniscule flashes that would only convey a single thought or feeling and leave her frustratingly unaware of the context behind them.

She didn't know what they were, but she knew what had caused them. They'd only started after Madoka had made her grand transformation in the courtyard. Seeing her wreathed in that light… It was unlike anything Mami had ever seen before.

Or perhaps not. If the girl's story was to be believed, some other version of herself had once been one of these 'Puella Magi'. To her Inquisitorial values, the title and abilities screamed witchcraft, but there were important features that made their natures hard to pin down exactly.

Regardless of what they truly were, she couldn't pretend that she wasn't starting to grow somewhat fond of the pink haired comet that had fallen into their midst. She still hadn't entirely ruled out Warp trickery, but more and more she found herself looking forward to their meetings.

Maybe it was simply that she finally had someone to talk to.

Raising up her hand to stop the steady flow of words coming from the Commissar next to her, Mami slowed to a stop.

"I thank you for that update." She said, leaving out the fact that she'd have preferred he left out his personal complaints about the locals. "But it seems we've arrived at my stop. I trust you can handle anything that develops from Stratholmis in the meantime?"

Gilliam paused, taking a moment to reassess as his words were halted. The hesitation passed quickly, and he nodded with a confident gesture.

"As you wish, I will see to it." He assured. "Are there any parameters you wish to establish?"

Mami took a second to consider before answering.

"Be forceful, but be discreet." She said. "Do what needs to be done in order to restore the peace, but keep things under wraps. The last thing we need is for any of the traitors to stir up panic in the hearts of the citizens and escape in the confusion."

With another nod, the Commissar gave a salute and turned back the way he'd come, no doubt already planning how best to have their troops snuff out the remains of resistance that had been clinging to life in the back alleys of the city.

For her part, the Inquisitor faced the door that hid Minerva Hall's infirmary from the outside world. It was the same door she'd been visiting for the past two and a half weeks.

Taking a deep breath, she let the former air of distance and cold command flow off like a screen of water. She'd already decided that the best way to deal with Madoka was to appear approachable and friendly, while keeping some measure control and ensuring her young guest knew who was in charge.

She kept telling herself that it was for the sake of keeping her cooperative and nothing else.

A calm smile gracing her features, the blonde agent of the Ordo Malleus pushed open the wooden barrier to reveal what lay behind it.

"-and still continued to fight even through their incredible casualties. When all hope seemed to be well and truly lost, the Warhound class Titan, Vindication of Truth, appeared seemingly from nowhere right in the midst of the enemy's lines, breaking their momentum and sending the fiends fleeing in total dissaray. Though Creed never revealed how he managed to keep the God Machine hidden until then, it was undoubtedly through some means of tactical genius."

Maximillian was in his element. The only thing the elderly Psyker enjoyed more than serving the needs of the Imperium, was reciting the glories of its heroes. Unfortunately, his captive audience looked about as lost as an Ork in a library.

Madoka sat on her bed as the man paced around her, a helplessly uncomprehending look on her face making it clear that she hadn't the slightest idea what he was going on about. Though she'd been diligently working to learn the information Mami was so insistent on teacher her, she was still terribly uneducated in almost all aspects of history. No doubt the names and deeds being recited only served to compound her distress.

"I think that's enough for the moment." Mami interjected, causing her bodyguard to stall out midsentence. "I doubt the lectures will do much more good if your student can hardly understand what you're talking about."

Maximilian put a hand to his chin, looking down at Madoka for what was likely the first time since he'd started his monologue. Seeing her expression of slightly apologetic confusion, he coughed in moderate embarrassment as he realized that he'd gotten trapped in his own discussion.

"Ah… My apologies Lady Inquisitor." He offered.

For her part, the blonde girl kept her amusement at the situation hidden beneath a stern mask.

"I wasn't aware the exploits of Ursarkar Creed were on the list of topics to be discussed today." She remarked lightly. "Has Madoka made that much of a leap in her education since the last time I met with her?"

"Well… no." He admitted, not seeing the silent joke playing out at his expense. "We were going over the history of the Imperial Guard, and one thing led to another…"

Deciding to show mercy to her obviously uncomfortable aid, Mami let him off with a small nod.

"Thank you, Max. I'll take it from here. I'd like to see what she has learned so far." She said, dropping from formality enough to use the shortened version of his name. The Psyker straightened out, recovering from the momentary lapse in form.

"As you say." He answered with a half-bow. "If you need anything, I will be right outside."

Stepping aside as he made his way past her, Mami watched him go with a slight shiver as he passed. Though she'd grown more than used to his unusual presence, her instincts still warned her of an unnatural psychic aura whenever he came near.

"Well then." She began, turning back to Madoka as the door closed behind her. "I see he's been keeping you busy."

The girl offered up a shaky smile, looking unsure whether or not it was the appropriate response.

"He's very… passionate." She ventured.

"That he is." Mami agreed. "But passion alone can't teach you what you need to know. How have your studies been going?"

Shifting into a more comfortable sitting position on her bed, Madoka seemed to put careful consideration into her words before speaking.

"I've been learning a lot about the Emperor." She said, her eyes taking on a faraway gaze. "The things he'd done. It doesn't even seem real. A crusade through the stars… uniting humanity after such a disaster…"

An ember of gratification lit in Mami's chest. Though not much by the standards of even the most lax of the Schola centers, Madoka's education was coming along better than she'd initially hoped. Though floundering under the amount of information, she was still managing to stay afloat. What's more, her voice betrayed subdued notes of awe now when she spoke of the God Emperor. A perfectly fitting response for the savior of humankind.

"It is real, I can assure you." She said. "How much have you memorized? If I recall, the last time you were only aware of his name and reputation."

A look of concentration took hold as she recounted the tale of the Emperor's triumphs, and made it halfway through the story of the Horus Heresy before stumbling over the names of the Primarchs involved. Her efforts seemed to derail themselves as she wound up coming to a halt shortly afterwards.

"Not bad." Mami stated. "But you should work harder to grasp this as soon as possible. You can only truly appreciate the depths of what the Emperor has done for us if you understand his greatest betrayal."

The pink haired girl nodded solemnly, taking in the familiar assertion with a quiet acceptance. It was about as much as she'd expected given that it was essentially the same as what she'd been told during most of their meetings.

"So…" She began, casting a venturing gaze up to the standing Inquisitor. "Do I pass for today?"

Mami felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth at the hopeful tone in her charge's voice. It was part of the deal they'd made. In order to ensure that Madoka was putting all her efforts into learning the material she was brought, and that she was cooperative in explaining the circumstances of her own strange outburst in the courtyard, the blonde had agreed to a rather strange deal. For each day that she passed the Inquisitor's scrutiny, she was allowed to ask three questions of her. Unlike the things she would normally be learning, these could be of a more personal nature.

There were restrictions of course. Mami had made it very clear that she was well within her rights to refuse an answer for anything she deemed as too prying to be shared. Information that could jeopardize the safety of the Imperium, knowledge that brought with it the weight of taint, secrets spoken only to those who'd been properly initiated into the Ordos. Anything and everything pertaining to things best not known.

To her credit, the younger girl hadn't even come close to a question like that yet. She seemed unusually fascinated with finding out small parts of Mami's personality. Her tastes in music, her favorite foods, and other harmless information. The Inquisitor saw what she was doing quite quickly. Instead of amassing the knowledge into a picture she could use for some malicious goal, the girl looked to be comparing it to the ideas and ideals of the Mami that she claimed she'd known.

Either she was very skilled at masking her intents, or she was benign in her questioning.

"I think that you've done well enough for that." She stated at last, causing Madoka to sit up straighter in her seat. "Same as always. Three questions that I will answer so long as they stay within acceptable bounds."

Madoka was quiet at first. When they'd initially begun this ritual, she'd often hastily throw out the first questions that came to her mind. Little questions that earned little answers in turn. Since then, she'd become more thoughtful in how she approached the game they had.

"What is Gilliam's job?" She asked. "He acts like a soldier, but he doesn't seem very happy to be here."

Mami stepped forwards; taking a seat on the bed located next to the one Madoka was resting on.

"Gilliam is a Commissar." She explained. "His duty is to ensure the total loyalty of the soldiers around him. He does this both by creating an image for them to follow through his own actions, and by dealing out punishment for those who are found lacking."

She put a finger to her chin, considering how best to go on.

"If he doesn't seem happy, it's because he isn't. He's a man who would sooner spend his life on the battlefield against the enemies of man than in a civilian's garbs. I suppose most Commissars are. This planet, Atlania, is a very long ways away from any real fighting. For him, being here is almost like being imprisoned in a way. He's become more prone to frustration recently, though he still keeps himself under control. Don't let him frighten you too much. So long as you're in my care, you'll be under his protection."

She didn't fully know why she'd decided against telling the girl the reputation that preceded members of the Commissariat. Maybe it was the hints of innocence that she retained, a commodity rarely seen in the Imperium, or perhaps she simply didn't wish for Madoka to be unduly wary around him. She was still very naïve about many things, and her seemingly gentle nature could foster a distrust of someone whose duty was to bring swift judgment to those guilty of cowardice.

For her part, Madoka took several moments to think over the information she'd been told, no doubt refining whatever opinion she held of the man. When the silence passed, she turned back to Mami with curiosity in her eyes.

"Do you have your second question prepared already?" The Inquisitor asked, a slight teasing tone coloring her words. Her smaller companion nodded in response.

"I was looking through some of the books on weaponry earlier…"

Though she showed no outward signs of it, Mami internally jolted in surprise. Since her arrival, the pink haired girl had shown no interest in learning about the weapons used to bring death to the enemies of the Imperium. At best she put off by them. At worst, outright repulsed. Especially when it came to chemical or flame based instruments of war.

"I was wondering." She went on, folding her hands in her lap. "What are the rifles you use? They don't look like anything in any of the books."

Ah. Another comparison then. That was something that made sense. A short mental debate went on in Mami's head as she weighed the risks of sharing such information. Settling on a calm smile, she decided that any risk involved was of minimal consequence.

"You're not likely to find them in any books or texts." She explained. "They're gifts from my mentor, given to me when I achieved the rank of a fully fledged Inquisitor. Specially made as well. That should give you some idea of their importance."

She paused, gauging the girl's reaction to that. Though she didn't have the same level of shock most bore when informed of a custom-made weapon for someone so young, there was an undeniable light of interest in her gaze.

"They're based on the designs for the Exitus Rifle, which is a weapon reserved for assassins of the Vindicare temple." She said, noting that the name didn't seem to register much beyond the understanding of them being assassins. "Octavian, my mentor, has had many dealings with the Officio Assassinorum. That would be the organization responsible for training Imperial assassins. He managed to convince the higher ups of the Vindicare temple to craft them as a reward for my achievements. Though they don't have the legendary range or stopping power of the true weapons, they're much better suited to mid range combat."

The blonde couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at the memory. The life of an Acolyte was a harsh and unforgiving one, and the gravity of such gifts were not lost on her.

Once again, Madoka took a short while to collect her thoughts while the words sunk in. Her third question was already visibly forming in her mind, and Mami could fairly easily predict what it would be. Prior to this she'd never mentioned her mentor, and, given the pink haired girl's interest in her personal life, the final question would almost certainly be about him.

The decision was made as a look of hesitant determination took shape on the younger of the two. Mami waited patiently as she began to speak.

"There was one last question I had for today." She said, deciding to start off slowly. "I've been wondering for a while, but it didn't seem like the right time to ask."

The Inquisitor gave an affirmative hum as she thought of those implications. Not about Octavian then. What else might have caught her interest that she hadn't had the chance to ask?

"Back when Maximillian was… doing what he did in my mind, he saw something and seemed to be very surprised by it." Madoka said. "It had to do with when I saw you… well… die."

Mami nodded at that. Though she was somewhat surprised the Psyker might have been disturbed by an image of her death, she could see how that might catch him off guard. It certainly hadn't been easy for her to block out her own doubt when told about her supposed presence in this other timeline.

"The thing is, he took one look at the Witch you were fighting and just kind of stopped. It was like he couldn't believe what he was seeing." Madoka explained. "He even called it by name. Charlotte I think."

Mami froze. Every muscle locked into place. Not so much as an errant twitch disturbed her posture.

"Was Charlotte someone important?"

She couldn't breathe. She didn't even remember how. It shouldn't have hit her this hard. She knew that Madoka was aware of the creature, but to have her mentioned so out of the blue…

"Mami?" The girl asked, her face turning concerned. "Are you all right? You look pale."

No. It couldn't simply be curiosity could it? There had to be some ulterior motive for bringing that… _thing_ up. But that couldn't be right either. The child in front of her had displayed no signs, either visible or hidden, of anything beyond open honesty.

The expression on her face turned to one of worry as the Inquisitor gave no further response.

"Um…" Madoka ventured, not knowing how to respond. "I-It's fine if you don't want to answer. Really, I was just wondering is all. She seemed… so…"

Her words petered off into nothingness, leaving behind a void that was quickly opening between the two of them. Despite the nature of what was being discussed, she still managed to look so totally innocent.

Part of Mami desperately wanted to tell her. To share the story of the corrupted being that had set her on this path. She could as well. Even after such a short time, it was easy, comfortable even, to speak with this impossible child from another world. She could put her trust in the girl enough to share the tale.

But she'd trusted once already, and it damn near killed her.

"That's going too far." Mami stated sharply, her tone coming across with more bite than she'd intended. Not waiting to give her questioner a chance to respond, she rose to her feet and brusquely exited the room, closing the door on a very lost Madoka.

* * *

><p>It was a chilly night in the city of Midnil. The unrelenting wind cut through cloth and fabric with ease, leaving anyone unfortunate enough to be exposed to the elements subjected to constant shivering.<p>

High on the walls that surrounded the city, several unfortunate souls were huddled together against the bitter cold.

"F-Fecking wind…" One man muttered, pulling the thin blanket he'd been provided tighter against his standard issue PDF uniform. "Fecking I-Inquisitor… never h-had to take n-night watch before s-she showed up…"

"Can it you idiot." His companion urged. "You want someone to hear you talking like that? You know what happens to people who badmouth the Inquisition."

Under better circumstances, he might have agreed with those words, but the constant exposure to the cold had left him bitterly resentful.

"Y-Yeah, well m-maybe an interrogation c-chamber would be better than sitting on this d-damn wall all night." He spat, staring gloomily out at the darkened, frost-laden landscape. "A-At least it'd be warmer. There's n-nothing to even look for out here. N-Nothing happens."

"That's not true." The third member of the group piped in. "There was that girl who they say fell from the sky over in Ashworth wasn't there?"

"That's just s-some stupid rumor." He shot back, pulling his blanket tight to the point where it was in danger of ripping. "D-Don't believe every f-fecking thing you hear."

The second of the three sighed in defeat, turning his eyes skywards as he tried to block out the complaints coming from his frozen squad-mate.

"At least we get to watch a meteor shower tonight." He offered, pointing up to the spots of light cutting across the inky expanse above them. "That's something right?"

The resentful trooper gave the image only a moment's scrutiny before returning to his self-pity.

"Those a-aren't meteors you idjit." He slurred. "T-Too slow moving. Probably some f-fecking things that the I-Inquisitor put into orbit or something."

He wasn't entirely wrong. After taking a closer look at the dots of light in the sky, the one who'd pointed them out couldn't deny that they didn't seem to be shooting across the horizon. If anything, they almost looked like they were headed for the planet itself.

"Uh… guys?" He said shakily, getting the attention of his two companions.

"Is it just me, or do some of those look like they're getting closer?"


End file.
